The Blood of Roses
by Valentine1
Summary: "The greatest beauty is that of the mysterious. To tell you would kill it." She whispered. "Find it for yourself; that is the right way to know."
1. First Impressions

P  
Several wizards sat around a blazing fire drinking huge mugs of coffee and nibbling on   
scones discussing events as they had countless newspaper clippings in front of them, books   
(many   
books), tapes, scrolls of parchment. One of them, with a flowing white beard, was dressed   
in a   
robe patterned with twinkling moons and stars. His nose was crooked and his eyes a   
gleaming   
blue behind half-moon spectacles. "I believe we have much to enlighten you on Mr.   
Fudge."   
The wizards spoke out to a short round looking man who sat across from him. He was on   
his   
eighth scone piled high with cream and strawberry preserves.   
P  
"I still can't understand....how possibly..." He looked flustered and speechless, his eyes   
disbelieving, "only in a year....how? How Dumbledore?" And then he quickly added, "I am   
sorry I didn't trust you when you first told me, tried to warn me...I am very sorry." He   
looked   
downcast, a sad face reflected in the empty bottom of his mug.  
P  
"Quite alright," Dumbledore was the name of the wizard with the long beard. "No need to   
be   
sorry - we were after all on the same side all along. We were both against Voldemort and   
now   
he has gone for good; the world is at rest again."   
P  
"I was too stubborn, too worried about myself, so many..so many died. I feel it is all my   
fault."  
P  
"Now, now Fudge. We cannot blame ourselves for what is pure fate. First we must   
understand, for you do not fully know the story of what happened. That is why we are here   
all   
here," he motioned to the other wizards who sat there all looking intent, "to explain and   
make   
sense of what happened; so that those who died may have their memories live on. These   
memories, everything we have found out, have been transferred into this pensieve." He   
motioned to a very large stone bowl filled to the brim with a glassy looking silvery mist.   
"The   
view of one person was not enough to complete the story, but here in this lie all of   
them ready to play before our eyes like a picture. Before you, at reach to our very   
fingertips, lies love, hate, fear, evil all the simplest of human emotions at their greatest. Yet,   
not one man can explain them in their complexity. It is enough to quite overwhelm any   
person, no matter how great."  
P  
There was a run down shack that sat behind a sloped hill; no one would have given a   
second   
care to it before. The walls were made of a rusting tin, which was bent in at odd places   
where   
kids threw stones at it for target practice, and bits of graphitti were left wherever it had not   
been scrubbed off. This meant they were everywhere. It was the kind of place that you'd   
  
have though would be torn down by now, or knocked down for all that was left of it. No   
one   
ever expected that someone, a someone who may have seemed insignificant, but a   
/I none the less lived there. That someone was sitting in there at that   
very   
moment. Outwardly he appeared to be nothing except a very old man who was lucky that   
he   
was still alive. On a closer examination you saw that he had so many wrinkles   
running   
across his face he rather looked like a roadmap. His eyes were small and beady, like a   
rat,   
the darkest shade of brown possible before you could just call them black. They made his   
pupils look like huge marbles. He was huddled over; his back seemed to be permanently   
stuck in the position it was in, for he always walked crouched. The clothes he wore were   
as   
shabby as those of a house elf; it wouldn't surprise anyone if he was mistaken as one.   
There   
were holes throughout his oversized, pillow-case-like, shirt that had been patched. The   
person doing the job was obviously not very skilled. He sat with his arms wrapped tightly   
around his knees in a squat position on sockless feet rocking back and forth endlessly.   
There was a rail thin black cat parked beside him.  
P  
"It's coming!" The words scarcely came out, uttered in a hoarse whisper. "It's coming ain't   
it!   
And I'm the /I one who knows it. I am. That's right, you and me kitty." He   
clutched his cat tighter. The cat hissed angrily and clawed at the man's face, he was so   
thin   
that the man could have easily crushed him "Now there'll be no time for fightin, cause you   
and   
me kitty we'll be the only ones left." He stroked it's back trying to calm the cat down. "I   
tried   
again and again to warn 'em, but no one listened. They laugh and hands me some   
money, and tells me to get meself some food. They'll all learn though, yes one day they   
will!"   
P  
Only a few pieces of jagged glass still remained where there had once been a window, and   
into them shone the blood red light of day. With unseeing eyes, the man looked up. "It's   
time now kitty, soon it'll be warming up and they'll be coming."  
P  
The sun spread its orange rays over Platform 9 3/4. The Hogwarts Express hadn't arrived   
yet   
and nor had anyone else for that matter. Wind stirred the branches of nearby trees   
swaying slightly but not making a sound.   
P  
"Bloody hell! I told them it was too early!" The voice was that of quite a tall girl in black   
robes and knee high, lace-up boots, extremely large heels weighing them down. This made her stomping   
on to   
the platform ten times louder. She had long, straight hair without so much as even a hint   
of a   
curl. Raven colored and swinging in sharp angles not far past her waist. It looked, to say the least, dead. The way it fell over her shoulders and into her eyes, limp and lifeless. Eyes that were glowing, without any color.   
P  
"No! They had to run off to Paris the both of 'em didn't they? Always going off to   
someplace! Last month it was Rome, month before Paraguay. Don't give a crap about me!   
Leave me alone, with that idiot of a nurse. Now I'm going to have to wait a whole   
five hours...alone!" She began to run off a long list of curse words that a girl her age   
shouldn't know. Her pale face went very red, and she plunked down hard on one of the   
benches. The girl was Blaise Zabini, a Slytherin about to enter her fifth year at Hogwarts   
and very displeased about it. She pulled her carts of luggage nearer afraid that some thief   
was lurking nearby. Yes carts; she had so many bags and trunks that they couldn't possibly all fit on one. Somehow she couldn't shake off the feeling that someone was watching her. With a flick of her hair, she pulled out an old-looking, leather bound book that was entitled "How   
to Break into Gringotts (It's not Impossible)!"   
P  
By the time she had reached page five hundred, a voice interrupted her. "Don't really think you   
need   
that, Zabini." The drawl was unmistakable, and she looked up into the harsh grey eyes of   
Draco Malfoy. He was a Slytherin fifth year, like Blaise, and was for once not flanked   
by   
his two cronies Crabbe and Goyle. Over the Summer he had grown considerably taller,   
and   
was hovering about an inch over Blaise. Apparently his parents had dropped him off too,   
because they didn't look to be anywhere.  
p  
"Get away from me Malfoy." She had turned her attention back on her book. Unlike the   
other   
Slytherins, she didn't get along with him very well. In fact, she didn't get along with anybody.  
P  
Ignoring her, he sat down next to her managing to sit on her hair as well. Blaise shrieked   
loudly and hit him on the shoulder. "Get off my hair you idiot!"  
P  
"Don't you think it's time you cut it, trying to break some world record are you?"   
P  
"Well, do you have some premature aging disorder, or do you /I to look like a   
fifty   
year old man?" Blaise said, remarking on his white blonde hair, and turned back to her   
book.  
P  
Taken aback Draco faked a pout "Why you don't find me attractive--"  
P  
Blaise cut him off angrily. She didn't like it when people wouldn't leave her alone. Picking   
up   
the ends of her long robes Blaise got up from the bench and proceeded to walk off the   
platform.   
P  
"Where are you going?" Draco asked, getting up to follow her.  
P  
"Away from you!" Blaise had turned around to say this, and found that twisting around   
suddenly when you're wearing heels is not a bright thing to do. Before she knew it, she had fallen   
right into the arms of Draco Malfoy. He had a slight grin on his face. Almost as a reflex,   
Blaise   
shoved him hard in the ribs with "How to Break into Gringotts" and jumped off the Platform.   
  
She left a gaping Draco, as she crossed the tracks, and walked madly not having any idea   
in   
the world where she was going.  
P  
"VIRGINIA WEASLEY! FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT OR WE'RE   
GOING   
TO BE LATE!" Yelled a short, plump woman up the stairs. For   
anyone   
who didn't know her it would come as a shock that such a small woman could yell so   
loudly.   
But Mrs. Weasley was not a timid person by any means.  
P  
"Yes, mum. Hold on a second please. I just need to-"  
P  
"We don't have one second!" She pointed furiously at the clock, but it was no use because   
the   
Weasley's clock didn't actually show time. Four of the arrows (Ron, Fred George, and Mr.   
Weasley) were at the spot marked traveling, Ginny's arrow was at the spot marked Home,   
and Mrs. Weasley's was at a point that said "seriously annoyed".  
P  
"Fine!" Ginny muttered under her breath, as she trudged down the stairs, avoiding her   
mother's gaze and looking down at the floor embarrassed.   
P  
When Mrs. Weasley finally managed to see her face, she saw that there was a large glittery   
  
pink smudge on her chin, and her cheeks had large splotches on them. She gave a little   
chuckle, and quickly pulled her down the stairs out to the car. "I'll fix that on our way dear,   
we really don't have much time." Mr. Weasley had managed to borrow a car from the   
Ministry of Magic again this year, after all his Blue Ford Anglia had been destroyed when   
Ron and Harry   
had taken it for a ride right into the whomping willow (A rather violent tree, that didn't like   
anything or anyone coming near it).   
P  
When Ginny and Mrs. Weasley had climbed in Ron suddenly burst out into a fit of   
laughter," Ginny, you weren't trying to put on makeup were you?!" he managed to sputter.  
P  
Ginny looked down, going even redder than the blush she'd tried to put on...if that was   
possible. "Oh shut up, Ron!"  
P  
"Ron leave your sister alone," came the irritated voice of Mrs. Weasley.  
P  
"Alright Mum" He said, biting his lip.  
P  
After a few minutes, Mrs. Weasley had managed to fix the smudged blush and lipstick   
Ginny   
had applied, leaving her looking older and quite pretty. She smiled at her, wiping away a   
stray   
tear from her cheek as she realized her daughter was growing up.  
P  
"Aww Mum, don't start crying on us," piped up George, who had been sitting in the front   
seat.  
P  
"Yeah, we're almost at King's Cross. What would people think?"  
P  
"Excuse me Professor, surely this is not important, merely the worries of a schoolgirl,   
mustn't we stick to the bare facts? And I am not interested in Mr. Malfoy's social life,   
otherwise - "The words were spoken by another witch in the huddle. A woman with severe   
lines in her face and an equally severe expression. Her black hair was tightly pulled back   
into a bun.  
P  
"Listen Minerva, just listen, and then you will understand." Dumbledore who held a bemused   
smile,   
as if expecting this, brought up his hand to motion for silence. "If there is one thing you   
must   
do, it is to listen and believe. Believe even if the strongest urges in your mind tell you not   
to if   
your heart tells you it is wrong, believe among all else. The story is only harder to accept   
if it   
has to be told again. Truth is not something that agrees with everyone. I know. Tonight it   
must. This is all I ask of you. Let us continue." And at that Minerva McGonagall quieted,   
sitting back down in her seat.  
P   
P  
It was getting brighter, and the sunlight beat harshly on the back of Blaise's neck, ignoring   
it   
she walked on crushing branches, plants, and nearly everything that came into the path of   
her enormous boots. The moors of England held some of the most mysterious legends in   
the world, of ghosts, and monsters, they were almost unearthly. Although Blaise had been   
walking for quite awhile it looked as if she had gotten no where. Forwards, backwards, to   
the right and left, lay the same dull scenery of dewy grass and a few trees here and there.   
At this rate she was going to miss the Hogwarts Express and on top of that find herself   
lost for days. This thought had obviously not crossed her mind. A gathering of trees   
became visible on the horizon, and strangely she was compelled to reach it. She took off   
at a   
run despite that she was exhausted and only minutes before could barely walk. Her heart   
was beating in her ears, and her hair fanning behind her like a huge cape. The closer she   
came to the trees the farther away from her they moved. She was nearly touching them,   
and then they'd shoot back wanting to avoid her.   
P  
When it felt like she was going to collapse and die right there, she stopped to lean forward -   
on none other than a tree from the gathering. It was a mighty willow reaching as a high as   
the   
clouds. Its long branches, threaded delicately with hundreds of tear drop leaves, brushed   
against her shoulder whispering an invitation to come inside. The trees had been   
arranged in a circle. Webs of moss spun over the tops. Once inside, she was   
overwhelmed with a burst of cool air, relieving to the swirling heat outside.   
There were dozens of other   
willows similar to the one she had fallen upon, yet a single one of them couldn't be as   
great.   
A few tall pines also were in the circle, and they all looked largely unfitting to the scene.   
The   
trees had been gathered around a small pond that lay in the center. Lilies lay on its surface   
  
untouched. Birds flew in through the tree tops looking for a few stray berries or   
worms and they all fled within a matter of seconds. There was a quality about the   
place that pushed them to leave. This quality had the opposite effect on Blaise. She was up   
and about the flowers, humming to herself and twirling in and out of the trees. This   
behavior was very new to her, as she always seemed to be in an unpleasant mood.   
P  
Out of nowhere a single crimson rose petal wafted down from the sky, through the moss   
canopy of the trees and into Blaise's cupped hands. She laughed in pleasure as another   
and   
another flew down. They filled the air with their sweet scent and settled in her hair, her   
mouth,   
her eyes. She was drinking them in; it was complete and utter ecstasy.  
P  
The petals pouring down from the clouds were not roses. As one of them stung Blaise in the   
  
eye a small tear drifted down her cheek, running into the petal which melted. All of   
them began to melt, running in a thick, sticky liquid. She couldn't stop herself from letting   
it   
keep pouring into her mouth. /I drop stung. The stench was foul.   
P  
Achieving a brief   
moment of what seemed sanity, Blaise examined the rivers running down her hand.   
"Blood."   
The word was barely whispered until it became a scream. A scream that hung in the air, as   
  
she clawed at her skin trying to remove the blood that was everywhere; staining her.   
IWhy stop? You are enjoying it/I came a voice. A small cry came from Blaise's lips.   
IWhy stop/I it repeated. IWHY STOP?! If this is all you want!/I Blaise didn't   
understand, not a word, not the blood, not the voice...she was quivering madly. Her body   
shook so much that she thought she couldn't ever stop. Trying to steady herself, she   
leaned   
against the willow that had invited her hear, using all the strength left to block the horrid   
voice   
from her ears. The moment she had laid a finger on the tree it turned a singed black,   
recoiling and twisting, teams of red light escaping from it. She was already screaming at   
the trees   
and the voice. The blood still stained her hands. Every second it was there it hurt her.   
IThe   
lake/I. Yes, she remembered there was a lake in the middle of this hell. Running,   
crawling,   
on her hands and feet she bent over to it brought some water to her mouth with her   
hands and dropped it. It was the same; it was all the same, no water lay in that lake. Only   
  
blood. With sobs racking her ribs she fell to the ground clutching her knees and crumpled   
into a   
ball. The voices spun and spun around her head, still there was nothing she could do about   
it.  
P  
"Blaise! Blaise! God Blaise what's wrong?" A figure stood over her, and for the third time   
that   
day she looked up into Draco's gray eyes. This time she was so glad to see him, to see   
anyone who could make this stop.  
P   
Tears continued to pour down her face, and her whole body was hurting, in a strangled   
voice   
she managed to speak. "Make it stop. Draco, please make it stop."  
P  
"What?" The expression on his face was nothing but confusion. "Make what stop?"  
P  
Brushing away the strands of hair that had fallen into her teary eyes, she scanned around   
her ,   
peering into every corner of the gathering to see if it was still there. Then she brought up   
her   
hands to her face and stared at them, turning them over, looking under her fingernails.   
  
There wasn't a trace of blood of the singed, black, mangled forms of trees. It had all left in   
so quickly an instant. "Nothing, nothing at all." As soon as she had said it, Blaise stood   
up wiping away the tears that remained, dusted off her robes and pulled out a pocket   
mirror to check her hair. She didn't really see herself, didn't really look. Her hand was just held out awkwardly. Going through the motions. "Nothing's wrong."  
P  
"But...you were..." Draco was even more confused, his eyes narrowing. What had he   
seen? Blaise had been lying there, crying her heart out. The image was all very clear and   
set   
in his mind. What had he expected? Had he thought that she would smile up at him, and tell   
  
him exactly what was wrong, to embrace him and sob into his shoulder, telling him   
everything.   
Everything that worried her...and then. What was he thinking? Was he mad? He didn't   
have   
feelings for her, and she didn't have any for him. The Hogwarts Express was leaving, and   
he had  
better be going. Blaise had already beat him too it. She had cleared a great amount of   
distance while he had been thinking; if he didn't hurry up he wasn't likely to even see a   
trace   
of her.   
P  
Parents and relatives stood waving, and calling out to the scarlet train as it began to gain   
steam, ready to pull out of the station.   
P  
"Noooo! Wait!!!!" The last of the Weasley family had arrived on the platform red-faced   
and gasping for breath. They caught up to the side of the train when a compartment door   
flew   
open. A girl, with wavy brown hair, sat reading a textbook and a boy with untidy jet black   
hair   
called out, "Come on Ron! Hurry!"  
P  
Within a matter of minutes, several trunks had been piled into the now crowded   
compartment along with Fred, George, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and Harry Potter. It was a   
wonder that anyone was able to breath let alone move. Fred and George inched their way   
toward the door and out into the hall. "See you later!" They called, managing to drop a few   
  
canary creams on their way out. Ron was about to give Ginny a "look", which meant go   
away!   
She had already left, dragging her trunk, and looked to be in a rush.   
P  
"Where's she going?" Ron muttered. "Probably gone to get Colin, Dennis, and the rest of   
your fan club Harry."  
P  
"Ron..." Hermione gave him a look.  
p  
"Oi, Herm, can't I say anything around you?"  
P  
"Hmmmpppph!" She didn't reply but frowned at him, and stuck her nose back into the fat   
textbook, trying to memorize the charms that fifth years were required to learn.  
P  
The three friends sat in near silence. The only sounds were an occasional "oh!" and "I   
knew   
that!" from Hermione who seemed amazingly interested over simple spells.   
P  
"Don't you people talk anymore?" Ron burst out, listening to Hermione exclaim over   
schoolwork was starting to make him edgy." Say something...come on! Harry uhhh, how's   
Dudley's diet going?"   
P  
Harry looked up startled, "Errrr, what did you say, Ron?" He had been staring out the   
window   
drumming his fingers listlessly along the sill. Preoccupied with his own thoughts.  
P  
"Never mind, I think I'll go and see what Ginny's up to." With a deep sigh of exasperation   
he   
got to his feet and stalked off. Harry and Hermione weren't the only ones who seemed out   
of it   
today. As Ron passed by compartment after compartment he heard nothing but a few   
short   
whispers and in one instance a loud snore. He was about to turn around and head back   
when his ear caught the sound of giggles. It was coming from the door down the hall. Ron   
  
didn't know of a spell to aid you in eavesdropping so he had to suffice by pressing his ear   
against the door and straining hard to hear.   
BLOCKQUOTE  
"Come on Ginny tell us!"   
P  
"Yeah, we promise we'll keep it a secret!"  
P  
"We won't tell /I else!"  
P  
"Please, Ginny?"  
P  
"I'll tell you who I like!"  
P  
"Besides, you picked truth, so you /i to tell!"  
P  
"Oh, but do you really want to know?"  
/BLOCKQUOTE  
So that's where she'd went. Ron recognized the other voices as that of Lavender Brown   
and   
Parvati Patil. They too were Gryffindor fifth years. And there was one other person...it   
must   
have been Padma, Parvati's twin sister. Ron had taken her out to the Yule Ball last year,   
and   
had well remembered her annoyed complaints as she'd tried to get him to dance. He   
already   
knew who Ginny liked - Harry of course. Didn't everyone know that? He listened on   
anyway,   
pressing his ear harder to the door.  
P  
Four girls sat in compartment 131. Three of them bent over in suspense, and one of them   
looking as if she had a very bad stomach ache. Two of the girls were identical and sat on   
either   
side of the girl with wispy locks of light brown hair that fell to her shoulder, they were twins   
of   
course. Parvati and Padma Patil. Lavender, the girl sitting in the middle, was their best   
friend.   
And Ginny was the girl who sat looking sick.  
P  
Ginny had reluctantly accepted to play truth or dare with Lavender, Parvati, and Padma. It   
was a muggle game, Lavender had said, she'd learned it from one of her older cousins   
over   
the summer. Curse the muggle that made it up! She had been sitting for the past few   
minutes, her head down, refusing to say who she fancied. She nervously wound one of her   
  
red curls round and round her finger, managing to almost twist it into a knot as the other   
girls   
continued to pester her. "If I tell you," she measured out her words long and carefully,   
"do   
you promise you won't laugh? Promise? Promise you won't think I'm absolutely mad?"   
She   
bit her lip. Why had she been so stupid as to pick truth? It was awful, she couldn't keep a   
secret, even about her self, for the shortest amount of time.   
P  
"Of course we won't!" All three voices chorused as they leaned in eagerly to hear Ginny's   
answer.  
P  
"What year is he in?" Parvati interrupted, she wasn't one to wait.  
P  
"He's a fifth year like you guys."  
P  
"Ooooooh I didn't know Ginny liked older guys!" Padma squealed.  
P  
"Do we know him?" Parvati continued.  
P  
"Yeah, you sure do, a lot of people know him." She said the last bit with a hint of sarcasm   
in   
her voice. A lot of people may have known him but that didn't necessarily mean he was what you would   
describe as popular.  
P  
"Oooooooh I think I know who it is!" Padma shouted out, she smiled to herself, and hid her   
face in her hands.  
P  
"Really? Trust me, it's not who you think. I'm sure." Ginny twitched, wringing her hands,   
what would they say when they found out her secret?  
P  
"Is he on one of the Quidditch teams?" Parvati too looked as if she knew who it was.  
P  
"Yes," then she quickly added," there are a lot of people who play Quidditch though."  
P  
"I knew it!" She exchanged a look with her sister Padma, but Lavender still held a look of   
confusion; she had no idea who Ginny was talking about.  
P  
"What house is he in?" Parvati had stopped with her mad rush of firing questions, and held   
a   
more confident look in her eyes.   
P  
"I don't think you want to know."  
P  
Realizing to an extent what Ginny had implied, Lavender raised her eyebrows and   
gasped," You don't mean...." Her huge pale eyes, that seemed to already pop out   
drastically from her face,   
grew wider giving her the look of a fish.  
P  
"Yeah he's in Slytherin."  
P  
There was a look of surprise that spread over the three of them. This was obviously not   
what   
Parvati or Padma had expected.  
P  
"Blonde or Brunette, or redhead?" Parvati added the last after glancing Ginny's hair.  
P  
"Blonde, verrry blonde."  
P  
"Oooooooh Ginny likes blondes!"  
P  
"Shut up Padma!"  
P  
"Let's see. He's a Slytherin fifth year who plays Quidditch. Blonde. And a lot of people   
know who he is. It must be...ummm." Parvati wrinkled her forehead, wracking her mind   
trying to think of names. "It's not Marcus Flint, he's too old, and most of the players are...OH!"   
She let out a scream and sat in her chair aghast, the others caught on. This time their   
faces   
showed even stronger expressions of wonder.  
P  
"You mean it's!--" They all blurted out at once.  
P  
Ginny sat red as a tomato; it was no use they already knew. "Well you guessed it, I have a   
  
crush on Draco Malfoy."  
P  
A huge crash thundered, as the door of the compartment fell open, a tall red headed boy   
falling   
in with it. Ron stood there, his mouth formed into a huge "O", frozen in shock.  
P  
"OH MY GOD! Ron how long were you standing there? How long?! What did you hear?!   
Ohh. RON!" Ginny was now too screaming, her voice so loud and shrill that the glass on   
the   
windows trembled. "Ron what did you hear?!" She didn't have to wait for a reply, she   
could   
tell from his face that he knew. Her life was over; it was official. Her brother knew and   
now   
he would tell everyone. Not that Lavender, Parvati, and Padma eventually would say   
something. They couldn't keep shut for five minutes. Somehow this seemed ten times   
worse,   
almost as bad as Draco himself falling in.  
P  
"Like...Malfoy......enemy...how could you....Malfoy?!...what would Mum say...or Fred and   
George...Malfoy?....you like Malfoy?!" Ron was sputtering, looking quite silly, drawing out   
his   
words and the spaces that followed. He eventually gained back enough sanity to form   
sentences. "You gave up Harry for that dirty, foul, ugly, EVIL bastard!" Ron was huffing   
and   
no one would have been surprised if right then steam started pouring from his ears.  
P  
"Don't you ever call him that! Ever!" Ginny slapped him hard across the face, with all the   
strength she could manage, her hand leaving a stinging red mark. "I hate you Ron! I hate   
you!" Stomping, she fled the room out into the corridor.  
P  
"Why did you go and say that? Look what you've done!" Parvati was scowling at him, and   
  
barely held back kicking him in the shins.  
P  
"Yeah Ron, you have to go and ruin everything!" Lavender went out the door following   
  
her.  
P  
"She's your sister too!" Padma turned, and joined the two slamming the door right in his   
face.  
P  
After all they had missed a chance at some major gossip - they needed details.  
P  
"What's wrong with them? Was it something I said, maybe it's my hair? Why can't I ever   
say   
anything right? Girls, they don't make any sense." Shaking his head with   
bewilderment,   
he left the room. Hermione and Harry ought to wake up when he told them this.  
P  
"Almost there!" Trudging heavily, a small boy with thin brown hair prompted his dog to   
move on. His mother had told him to take it out for a walk, and he'd decided to take a look   
at the old lean-to shed near the train tracks. Reaching out a hand to wipe the beads of   
perspiration   
off his brow, he caught a glimpse of green in the distance. He didn't need to tell his dog to   
hurry   
up, he was barking madly, his mouth foaming, and had taken to a fast running pace. He   
had   
to hasten to keep up with him, or he would end up being dragged along in the mud.   
IWhat   
was wrong? Why, all of a sudden, had he gotten so excited/I? Just as the boy was about   
to   
try and stop his dog from running further, something passed in front of them. A black cat,   
it's   
fur sleek and shining with peculiar gray eyes was walking in their direction, away from   
where   
the flash of green light had happened, away from the run down shed. "So that's what this   
is,   
really all over a stupid cat. Come one, we better get home, I don't want mom yelling at   
me for   
being late on my first day back at school. Come on!" The dog paused, fixated at the spot,   
unwilling to get up. "Come on! I have to go, now!" Scolding him the boy picked him up by   
the   
collar, and tried to drag him backward. The dog was much too large, and he had to stop to   
  
catch his breath. Silently, the dog rose from his paws and walked back, seeming to forget   
his   
need to stay there. I What was that all about?/I But the boy didn't have time to   
dwell   
on the subject, his mind never wanted to stay on one thing for very long. II wonder   
what   
the new teacher's going to be likeP   
"Ron, are you absolutely sure that-"  
P  
"Yes, Hermione I'm sure! I heard the whole thing, she distinctly had said Malfoy. I   
wouldn't   
make something like that up. I'm not /I sick!" Ron had been trying to explain   
the   
scene he'd overheard.  
P  
"Well, you shouldn't have been listening in on their conversation! That's very rude Ron!"   
Hermione was frowning at him. Ron had gotten used to that; everyone was frowning at   
him today.  
P  
"I didn't mean to. I was walking past when I heard Ginny, and I couldn't have walked   
in   
on them. Then I wouldn't have heard anything. Wait, I wish I had walked away. I really   
didn't   
need to hear that."  
P  
"You shouldn't have said all those things about him. Even though I do think he's a..."   
Hermione   
paused, not wanting to say the word. "Well, anyway, it really wasn't very nice of you to say   
that. Ginny might be - a bit delusional on her part. I'm sure she has a very good   
explanation   
for it."  
P  
"So you're saying she's off her rocker? That's not too hard to believe."   
P  
"Ron! You know that is not what I meant! It's that Ginny might not know how much of a   
git   
Malfoy is. Maybe I should talk to her."  
P  
"No, then she'll get even more mad at me. She already hates me you know. She'll think   
I've   
told the world."  
P  
"Are you sure, because she might need someone to explain her feelings to."  
P  
"If you want to then go ahead."  
P  
"You're not being very supportive!"  
P  
"Would you two stop arguing?" Harry had decided to join in on the conversation. "If Ginny   
likes Malfoy, well that's her business."  
P  
"I would have thought you, of all people, would be on my side! Come on Harry, he's your   
enemy!" Ron obviously felt that now both his friends were against him.  
P  
"I'm not on anybody's side. I said that you should stop arguing. Malfoy isn't worth you   
two   
getting mad at each other."  
P  
With sighs from both sides, Hermione and Ron reluctantly settled down, and tried to talk in   
more 'civil' tones. And Hermione came to the decision that she was going to try and talk to   
  
Ginny. So she set off to find compartment number 131.  
P  
Dozens of pumpkin-shaped carriages were pulled up outside, glittering with an icy blue hue,   
  
their invisible coachmen waiting for passengers. The moon's soft glow wavered over the   
scene, making the drops of dew resting in the grass sparkle like a million diamonds. It   
wasn't   
the set for Cinderella, but the lawn outside Hogwarts, the coaches were ready to take   
students   
to the castle. Blaise stepped into the first one that she saw, rain was pouring down in   
heavy   
sheets and she was eager to get out of it. The carriage was in fact not empty, to her   
discontent, and to make matters worse she had once again run into Malfoy. She would   
have   
liked very much to slam the door, turn around and find another carriage. It had already   
started moving when she stepped inside, the door blown shut by the wind. IToday is   
definitely not my day./I Reluctantly she sat down next to Goyle, afraid that if the   
carriage   
gave as much as a jerk he would fall and crush her. Well it was better to be dead, than to   
endure sitting next to Malfoy, she thought.   
P  
"Errr who are you?" Goyle who had been digging in his ear, gave a grunt, and stared   
incredously at Blaise. Dull as he was, he was able to point out few faces outside the circle of Draco's enemies and confidences. For these had been drilled senseless into his memory.  
P  
"Blaise Zabini." She muttered. Nobody knew her, then? Not even in her own house!  
P  
"Yur very purety." Goyle was staring at her, a small drip of drool coming out of the left   
side   
of his mouth.  
P  
The first thought that came into her head was something along the lines of, 'EWWWW! I do not want that slimy brute   
anywhere near me!' She didn't say that of course, those two were dangerous. It was best   
not   
to cross them. "Thanks, I guess." It was hard to ignore that stupid smirk on Malfoy's face   
that   
appeared when he had said that.  
P  
"Are you alright now Blaise?"  
P  
"Yes." Her answer was short and cold. She had waited for that hint of sarcasm to start   
creeping back into his voice. He was probably going to tell all of Slytherin about how she   
had   
been crying. It would completely ruin her reputation, not that she cared. Of course. Why would she? She   
didn't   
give a damn about the whole lot. She was Blaise Zabini after all and she didn't need   
anyone.   
P  
The first years quickly pulled their cloaks over their heads, crouching down as they   
entered   
the great hall. Their upturned faces filled with a mix of confusion and fascination. "It's   
raining,   
it is! Look! Look! But why can't I feel it? I'm sure it's raining." A pudgy little girl, not more   
  
than four feet tall pointed at the ceiling. Others followed suit, all looking up at the ceiling,   
all   
exclaiming until Professor McGonagall settled to explain to them.  
P  
"The ceiling is only enchanted to look like the sky outside; you are not going to get wet!   
Come, come there is much to do." She shooed them ahead, walking until they approached   
a   
great stool, and on top sat the sorting hat. Looking as lively as one could who is patched   
and   
frayed everywhere possible.  
  
I  
"Four Houses where your fate may lay  
BR  
Four founders start them all  
BR  
'Tis I who choose your destiny  
BR  
Cross me and you will fall"  
P  
Rowena shone above the rest  
BR  
For her brilliant mind  
BR  
Only witty will pass her test  
BR  
Ravenclaw are your kind......"  
/BLOCKQUOTE  
  
Hermione, Ron, and Harry watched over the first years intently. Clapping every time   
someone   
was sorted into Gryffindor. A few seats down, Ginny sat very busy, in thought that is. And   
in   
watching a particular person. She found it very hard to drop her gaze from the Slytherin   
table, but had to avert it every so often; incase. She didn't want anyone to know what   
she   
was doing, and she had better not let Ron catch on. He was bound to yell at her right   
across   
the table.  
P  
"Hullo, my name's Jeanette." A small girl was looking at her with hopeful cornflower blue   
eyes and a bright smile as she held out a hand. Her straw colored hair was tied in two   
loose   
pigtails and her long bangs kept falling in her eyes. Her robes were so large, that it   
wouldn't   
be a wonder if they swallowed her up any moment. She had chosen to take the empty   
seat   
opposite Ginny. And she looked very scared indeed.  
P  
"Hi, I'm Ginny, welcome to Hogwarts. I'm glad you got into Gryffindor." She gave her a   
weak   
smile and shook her hand gently, she wasn't very good at starting up a conversation.  
P  
"Is it, alright that I sit here. Do you want me to move? You probably don't want to sit next   
to   
a first year? Am I annoying you? I'm probably talking too much - I always talk too much.   
I'm sorry. Oh I better stop talking now. I'll go. I'm really sorry I bothered you." She   
talked very quickly, her gaze kept to the floor as she barely even whispered her words.  
P  
"What?" It took Ginny some time to sort out Jeanette's words. "No, no it's alright. Just sit.   
It's ok." Ginny motioned awkwardly with her hands.   
P  
"Can I tell you something?"   
P  
"Sure what is it?"  
P  
"I'm really scared; I don't know anything about magic. I don't know anything about   
anything,   
and I don't have any friends here. "  
P  
"Well when I first came here I was sort of shy too, Hogwarts is really big, and sometimes   
all   
the hallways can be confusing, but you'll get used to it. I can help you." Ginny had never   
met   
someone who looked so frightened, except maybe Neville.  
P  
"Thanks." The little girl gave her a true smile, her face beaming.   
P  
Blaise sat up with a sudden jerk of movement. She couldn't sleep. Not now at least. She   
had   
been tossing and turning for what seemed like hours. She had shut her eyes and tried to   
bring her breathing to a normal pattern, tried to clear all thoughts out of her mind.   
Thinking too   
much was bad. Thinking made you worry, it kept you awake. The sheets only seemed to   
suffocate her, and the room came up with an acute shock of heat. Hot beads of sweat   
clung to her dark brows. "Surprising for a cold dungeon" she thought. "No use staying   
here, might as   
well go exploring." Her eyes began to glow with a nonsensical even mad light a half smile   
twitching on her red lips, perhaps that's what staying up late hours did to you. It drove you   
  
mad. With a soft sigh, and careful not to stir the other girls in her dormitory, Blaise threw   
back the thick green covers and stepped barefoot onto the icy stone. She didn't recoil, or   
draw back in a shiver, but simply walked on into the darkness. She knew exactly where to   
turn,   
where to avoid a step, the place had been imprinted into her mind after all these years.   
Huge   
portraits, their frames done in ornate swirls of bronzing silver, hung among the walls. The   
emblem of Slytherin portrayed on a silk banner wafting down from the ceiling, the serpents   
  
glittering slits of eyes piercing. There was not a single soul stirring in the common room,   
and   
the dead silence further dramatized your stereotypical story book dark dungeon. She   
fought   
down the urge to snigger loudly, it would echo a million times bouncing off the walls...and   
wake everyone. Peeves might even fly down from wherever he happened to be at the   
moment, to   
see who was enjoying themselves at this time of night, and find some way to stop it. She   
had   
remembered to pick up her wand off the side table, and whispered "Lumos." A small orb of   
  
light burst out of the tip, ruining the darkness. She walked silently through the portrait   
hole,   
ignoring the fact that her feet were bare and that if anyone saw her she would surely be in   
trouble. And the first day at Hogwarts too! What a shame! Blaise often did things on a spur,   
  
because she found again that she didn't know where she was going. She was simply   
walking,   
an alternative to her sleepless rest. And, maybe if she was lucky, she might come   
upon   
something interesting.  
P  
Someone else was awake that night. Hermione sat, a white feathered quill dipped in   
scarlet   
ink clutched in her hand, scribbling away in an indigo book. She had been keeping the   
book   
for the past two years, a diary yes she had to admit. She resulted, like other teenage girls   
to   
spilling out her silly thoughts onto paper for resolution. The soft scratching sound her quill   
made, and the large loopy letters filling up the page gave her a feeling a satisfaction:   
I  
September 1st  
BR  
First day back at Hogwarts!  
BR  
Dear journal,  
BR  
Today was not quite what I expected. Nothing largely important happened, but all the   
same   
something was off. The Hogwarts Express came on schedule, there was no delay. No derail   
by dementors. The feast was the same brilliant set up as always, the house elves have   
not given up their work! There was some sort of, depressing feeling to it. Harry did   
nothing but   
stare out the window, a blank expression on his face. Ron was as usual irritable. And not   
even Malfoy came to interrupt the gloom. I know we are going through a terrible time, and   
  
Harry must be living every second in...oh how stupid am I? To worry about myself and   
such   
trivial matters when there are lives at stake here! Hermione you are no fool. Of course   
everyone would be naturally sad, that is all you can expect isn't it? But the dark side will   
not win, I   
am sure of that. As Dumbledore said, "There will be many times when you will have to   
choose between what is easy and what is right. For what is easy is not often right." Maybe   
this is they trying part, we must all have confidence. Never give up. Harry and Ron will be   
better   
tomorrow I'm sure.  
BR  
And Ginny, well that problem is different. I didn't get a chance to talk to her today. Do   
you   
know journal that she has fallen for Malfoy, of all people? Ron nearly had quite a fit on the   
train this morning. Poor Ginny, I only wonder what she's feeling. This is only a stage   
right?   
It's not like she loves him of course, she's only fourteen and well he's Malfoy. I can't make   
assumptions until I talk to her. And now it's getting late, and I need to get some sleep if   
I'm   
going to be awake in class tomorrow.  
/CENTER 


	2. Strangers Appear

P  
A dark moon was visible high in the night sky. Its ghostly hue was a sign that tonight was   
not a night to be out. A few people had taken care not to heed its warning. They welcomed   
the blackness. Three figures stood all clad in black their faces hidden in the tent of their   
hoods. "We are here master." All three of them spoke as one. You couldn't have told the   
difference in the tone of their voices.  
P  
"I expected you would come." Someone stepped out of the shadows. Becoming large from   
small with metallic flashes.   
P  
The four sat down upon near frozen rocks covered by the deadly sweet frost. The figures   
clad in black did not wince or complain but awaited their master's speech.  
P  
"I suppose you would like to know why you are here. You only know that you serve me. I   
am your God. But, there must be questions?"  
P  
"No, sir." They replied simultaneously.  
P  
"Surely?" He cocked an eyebrow. Wicked grin plastered, waiting, asking, telling them to question him. Wonder.   
P  
"None at all." The temptation was resisted, if it was even there.  
P  
"Good." And that was all he said for awhile, after nodding in approval. Watched the faces he couldn't quite see. Stared. "Then, I will tell you this; you are the resurrected three."  
P  
"Who are they sir? Forgive me for my ignorance." At last one of the strangers had spoken   
out of turn. The two others scoffed at her and frowned beneath their hoods. It was not   
right to question the master.  
P  
"They are you, you are they. Three who can tell all fate. Three who know our lives."  
P  
Harry flinched, and rolled over on his side, he'd felt something brush his shoulder. Tap.   
Tap. There it was again. He lazily threw out an arm to his side, swatting at whatever was   
there. It didn't stop. Now from his left, someone was tapping him on the shoulder. At this,   
he was awakened from his half sleep. Rubbing his eyes, a hazy figure sat perched on the   
head post of his bed. I must be dreaming, this can't be real, he thought. Blindly, his hands   
fumbled to find his glasses that rested atop the side dresser. As the world came back into   
focus he was able to see what, or who in this case, was trying to wake him up.  
P  
A girl had been sitting on the mantle. She was petite in composure. Her legs swung slowly,   
making the floaty white material of her nightgown fly around her like a cloud. A pair of slanted eyes,   
framed with colorless lashes, focused on Harry. Unblinking. She wasn't beautiful, strangely, that was all he could remark. Swallowing in everything he saw, and unable to stop staring. Just ethereal. In a way that shouldn't exist.  
P  
"Hi." The girl made a small wave rustling the quiet air. It didn't occur to her that there was   
anything strange about sitting up in the middle of the night in the boy's dormitory, sitting in   
a boy's bed, not any boy but the famous Harry Potter at that, wearing nothing but her   
nightgown and trying to wake him up. If perhaps, Professor Snape for example, had walked   
in on them that moment he would find no reason not to convince Professor McGonagall that   
they should both be expelled. Even if he had to resort to the muggle invention of a camera   
to provide evidence. Not to say that it would have worked, as that would set off one of the   
magic wards placed around the castle, and only one figure would have appeared in the   
picture.  
P  
Her words could have been repeated a thousand times, but Harry lay still. Whether in shock   
and disbelief or entrancement it was impossible to tell by the expression his face wore.   
Instead, he looked back up into her gaze and met it returning the same degree of intensity.   
"Who, who are you?" Harry managed to whisper at last.  
P  
"A Gryffindor just like you." She replied shortly.  
P  
"But /I are you exactly? I've never seen you before. And why are you sitting on   
my bed?" The way she looked at him made him feel like he was prying by asking questions.   
He had every right to ask questions of course, and he knew it. After all, this was his   
dormitory not hers. She was the one intruding. Still, it did not feel that way.  
P  
"Well Harry, maybe you have never noticed me. I have been here alright. I went to classes like   
everyone else. And my name's Denia if that was what you were wondering. I'm a fifth   
year as well." She jumped down from her perch on top of the bed post, and landed with a   
faint thud beside him. Instead of shaking his hand or perhaps talking longer she threw her   
arms around Harry in a hug. The scent of flowers and sugar engulfed him for a few fleeting   
seconds, when with a rustle of fabric and a trace of a whispered 'good-bye' he found himself   
alone again.  
P  
"Bye Denia." Harry called out softly, blinking several more times to make sure he was   
awake, he came to the conclusion that he had been dreaming the past few minutes. "I   
never though it was possible to get drunk on butter beer, but that's the only logical   
explanation." With a wistful sigh he closed his eyes and waited for sleep to greet him.  
P  
Blaise heard the mewing of a cat not far away. She quickened her step a few paces while   
managing to still walk quite leisurely. It didn't seem a good idea to remain in the halls for   
very much longer, and she ducked into the first door that she spotted. The door swung shut   
with a loud click. The room was deserted, thank goodness. Not only was it deserted by   
people, she noted, but of everything else. One item sat lonely against one wall. A golden   
looking glass, /I inscribed in a curving scrawl along the top. Walking slowly   
towards it she placed one trembling hand onto the glass her breath coming out in puffs.   
This only deepened her curiosity. When she lifted her fingers, no mark or smudge had   
marred its surface. Nor was it fogged where her breath had touched it. And looking back at   
her was nothing.  
P  
"Is that truly your deepest desire? To disappear?" A robed figure stepped out from behind   
the mirror. Blaise caught one glimpse of pink for an instant before fading. She couldn't   
make out who it was. At least the voice had a body this time.   
P  
"What do you mean?" Her eyes were incredulous, brows furrowing, but her words held   
truth.   
P  
"It's what you wish isn't it? This is the Mirror of Erised. It shows your darkest, most   
coveted wish; what your heart wants. And you see nothing. Is that what you want? To be   
nothing?" She couldn't see anything except a black cloak. The lighting didn't help. Couldn't make out who she was talking to.  
P  
"I'm sorry, but should I know you? That's awfully rude of you, just waltzing in like that. And how do you even know that I can't see my reflection? You're standing behind it, apparently. Besides if   
it shows /I desires, wouldn't you see what you wanted and not what I want?"   
There now she had gotten the stranger back, maybe they would realize that they couldn't trick her   
that easily.  
P  
"Believe me, I can tell, by looking at your eyes. They are too expressive for one who is   
as you are. Am I right? They give away your soul. I can read you in an instant." The   
sound was that of assurity, and Blaise could not but help almost believing it. Her eyes grew wide as saucers, staring, waiting. Looking frightened, and innocent.   
P  
Poor kitten.  
P  
"You have no idea what I am feeling right now! Do you understand? No idea!" Shook   
herself out of her near trust.  
P  
"Is that because you are feeling nothing, if it is what you will become?" The stranger   
questioned.  
P  
"No!" Blaise's answer held emotion, however she didn't seem to realize it was done without   
thinking. "What you want, what's good for you, what will actually happen. They're different.   
One isn't always the other. When you talk about them all in the same sense, it creates   
confusion. S-so you, you could be wrong. You don't know what I'll become. Don't be so   
sure of yourself."  
P  
"Then what are you feeling?" The voice chilled her throughout.  
P  
"You said you knew, that you could tell by my eyes." This time Blaise had turned the   
question around - hit it in the face.  
P  
"I did, yes." The stranger nodded.  
P  
"Then what the hell are you asking me for? Why don't you perform your oh-so-magical   
powers of analysis wise one?" An echo of her words bounced off the walls of the   
hollowed empty room.  
P  
"Simply because I am. It is cause for much more enjoyment when I make people give me   
answers instead of finding them for myself." Didn't that sound familiar?  
P  
"You can find your enjoyment someplace else." She spoke airily, a clear dismissive   
disposition in her speech.  
P  
"I suppose I can." The figure imitated her parlance.  
P  
"Why don't you? Go away, and make someone else irritated."  
P  
"I vex you?" The stranger asked thoroughly surprised.  
P  
"Yes, you 'vex' me. Everything does." This seemed to be a plain and obvious fact to her.   
Shouldn't everyone know that?  
P  
"Is that why you want to disappear, so you don't have to be bothered?"  
P  
Blaise stared and didn't reply; she really didn't know the answer.  
P  
"Well?" The stranger prompted.  
P  
"I have to leave...now. This 'midnight excursion' ends right here. If you hadn't noticed, I need   
my sleep too." Blaise didn't want to talk any longer about that subject. It only confused her   
in so many ways. Turning around and heading toward the door she shut herself out, and   
turned right back around. She had forgotten something. She had no idea who that person   
was. "Sorry, I was wondering. What's your name?"   
P  
There was no one left in the room to give her a reply, not even her reflection.  
P  
Stories of what students had done over the Summer bounced from wall to wall of the great   
hall, the smells of sizzling bacon and toast danced in the air. A few people though sat   
droopy-eyed, and gave an occasional yawn because they hadn't slept well the night before.   
P  
"Harry! Wake up!" Hermione yelled out, Harry had been nodding off all of breakfast.   
That moment however, his head had fallen so far to the side that he was now asleep in his   
bowl of cereal.  
P  
"Huh, what? Where am I?" Harry lifted his now dripping head, milk running in turrets down   
his face.   
P  
"You're at breakfast, and I don't think sticking your face in the bowl will help you eat any   
faster, I never knew you liked cereal that much." Ron could barely contain himself. He was   
holding his stomach, pointing in mock horror at Harry.  
P  
Hermione ignored Ron's commentary, and handed a large wad of napkins to Harry. "I think   
you need these."  
P  
"Thanks." Embarrassed and a bit bewildered he managed to wipe off most of the milk, but   
he feared he would smell like it all day.  
P  
"Maybe you should go back to your dorm quickly, and change. We've still got about fifteen   
minutes. It shouldn't take you that long." Hermione suggested.  
P  
"Alright, see you two in Care of Magical Creatures then!" With a wave, Harry hurried out of   
the Great Hall, eager to wash the junk out of his hair.  
P  
"Ginny, I need to tell you something." Draco had caught her in the hallway after   
Charms class. "Come on." He took her hand, sending sparks of heat flying through her   
fingers. She tried hard to prevent the blush that was no doubt going to spread across her   
cheeks.   
P  
"What? Where are you - " IWhy do I always have to stutter and sound so shaky   
whenever I talk to him? I shouldn't even be questioning him, it might ruin whatever he's   
going to say.P  
"There's no time for questions now, this is important." Draco rushed on almost running   
through the crowded halls.   
P  
Exactly. Ginny thought. Ginny nearly swooned when Draco said that, "...it's important." she   
could only hope to think of what he would tell her. He quickly turned the knob of a blue   
door, taking them into a deserted looking classroom. The walls were bare, and but a few   
desks were scattered around the room. Draco let go of Ginny's hand, and the sparks   
stopped flying, but he was still there standing in front of her. She had to keep her hands   
gripped into fists to keep from reaching out to touch one of the translucent strands of   
silvery-blonde hair that had fallen into his eyes. She tilted her head , looking up from her   
shoes. "What is it Draco?"  
P  
"Ginny, I've been waiting forever to tell you this, and you won't believe it but..."  
P  
"You can tell me." She moved in closer taking in the perfect picture of his face. Smiling. But   
all the same looking nervous. Scared even. "What?"  
P  
"Ginny! Did I do this right? Did Professor Snape say to shred up the ginger root finely, or   
to dice it in small pieces? I think I might have buggered the whole thing. Ginny? Come on,   
I don't understand this. Shred or dice?" Colin had woken her up from her much too brief daydream. She   
frowned slightly; her dream had been getting to the good part. Draco was about to tell   
her how he felt. She never had gotten past that part without either waking up or   
someone disturbing her. This was the fifth time she'd had that dream.  
P  
"I think he said to dice it, or was it shredding? I'm sorry Colin, but I wasn't paying very   
much attention."  
P  
"I thought so. You were staring out with this smile on your face, and you were saying   
something. I didn't catch what it was though."  
P  
"I'm tired I guess, or maybe I'm out of it today. I'll go ask Anna if she knows what we're   
supposed to do with the ginger root." Ginny got up, grateful to get away from Colin, he   
probably would have liked to steer their conversation back towards Harry. Last May he had   
been particularly interested in determining what exact shade of green Harry's eyes were.   
He had trouble deciding whether they were bright-rain forest green, or shamrock green.   
Ginny liked Harry as much as the next person and in the years before, even more.   
Listening to Colin however, though he could be nice at times, was beginning to nauseate   
her.  
P  
A large round glass bowl was cradled in Hagrid's heavy arms. It was filled with a bright   
rainbow of color, and dozens of tiny fluttering wings. They were the elemental spirits of air,   
sylpha. He'd decided to start out with something easy for their class this year. "Oooooh!   
What's in their Hagrid?" Parvati Patil squealed and pointed excitedly to the bowl. "Aww, are   
those butterflies? They're so pretty!"  
P  
"Sylpha actually." Hagrid was beaming, perhaps his class would be a hit today. Despite   
even the fact that the Slytherins and Gryffindors were still paired together.  
P  
"What's the point of studying those? They don't do anything do they? All I can see so far is   
that they flap around." Draco eyed the bowl critically.  
P  
"Now they do quite a bit more than that, I'd reckon. Their wings are a useful ingredient in a number of potions, ye'rd   
be good to ask Snape about that one. And...don't ye think they're pretty?" Hagrid frowned   
the excitement fleeting.  
P  
"Of course Hagrid. They're beautiful!" Hermione exclaimed and rushed over trying to cheer   
him up.  
P  
"Yer they are." Hagrid grinned. "Now I better explain to ye how ter approach one. Shy   
things they are. You've got ter be real quiet, 'wise they'll right turn and fly away. Don't   
even breathe ter hard. Wait 'till they start ter trust ye a bit, then they'll right go and land   
in yer palm. Watch here." Hagrid set the bowl down on a bench cautiously and squatted   
down on his knees. He placed his hands cupped waiting for the sylpha. After a few   
moments one that had pale periwinkle wings dabbed with grey flew out and landed right in   
Hagrid's open hands. "See." He whispered. "'Tis easy, ye gots be a bit patient with   
'em. Here yer go little feller. " Hagrid positioned his hands over the bowl and let the sylpha   
glide back in. "Now line up, we'll best do this one at a time."   
P  
The students shuffled into a line, Parvati and a few of the other girls fighting to be first in   
line. Somehow though, Neville ended up being pushed to the front. He didn't seem to be as   
frightened as usual, they were like butterflies after all. Butterflies. That was all. A silly thing to be scared of. They wouldn't do anything to   
him. He didn't have to kneel down, Neville was quite short and the table came up to about   
his chest. With outstretched hands he waited for one of the Sylpha to fly out. "Sit still   
Neville. Ye don't want te scare 'em." Neville tried to stop squirming about. "That's better.   
Now wait. One o 'em will come soon enough." A red sylpha this time took its turn to   
rise out of the bowl. And landed with a tickling sensation into one of Neville's hands.   
P  
"I-I did it! I've actually done something right!" Neville laughed.   
P  
"Shhh, ye don't want ter scare the poor thing." Hagrid whispered.  
P  
"Oh, sorry about that." Neville turned red.  
P  
"Now put 'er back. And the next person can come up." Neville was tipping his hands over   
the bowl, and the sylpha drifted in...and out of nowhere he was screaming at the top of his   
lungs.  
P  
"Neville! What in the world are ye doing?" Hagrid called.  
P  
"Look." Neville managed to get out. All the sylpha had flown out of the bowl turning   
horrible shades of deep black red and were swarming around him like angry bees. They   
were glowing a bright color and emitted a great heat. They were on fire. Every one. And   
they spun in huge circles making it look like a huge red ring was around Neville. "Help!" He   
squeaked miserably. No sooner the sylpha exploded and all that was left by Neville's feet   
were a pile of ashes. The wind picked up and swept them away. Leaving nothing. "I didn't   
do it! I didn't do it!" He yelled. "I don't know what went wrong, I really didn't mean to."  
P  
"Quiet Neville. I dunno what it was either. This ain't 'sposed ter happen. I've never   
seen anything- I'll ask Professor Dumbledore about it. He'll know." Hagrid was scratching   
his head and began walking in the direction of the castle. "Oh, yer..class is over. Ye all   
are dismissed early." He called back to the students.   
P  
"Everyone, I'd like to welcome the new fifth year prefects! Let's see." The head girl paused,   
scanning her eyes over a piece of parchment. "From Ravenclaw, Orla Quirke and Terry Boot. From Slytherin, Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. Gryffindor, Hermione Granger   
and Ronald Weasley. And lastly Eleanor Brandstone and Justin Flinch Fletchley from Hufflepuff." A   
small tirade of claps and cheers followed. "I trust, that you all will accept your duties and   
set to be prime examples for your fellow peers here at Hogwarts. Now let's get to   
business." The speaker was a tall girl who was drastically thin, her knobby wrists could be   
seen poking out of her sleeves. She had orange hair pulled back into a pony-tail with large   
owl rimmed glasses, which would slip down her nose every so often. Her voice was clear   
and distinct; seeming to exert a sense of control and order. "I wonder why Percy didn't go   
out with /I instead of that Penelope girl," Ron muttered under his   
breath.  
P  
"This is Percy's doing. I know it. How else would they appoint me to be a prefect? I think   
they've made a mistake. Even Fred and George get better marks than I do, and you don't   
see them with these," Ron pointed to the badge that was pinned untidily to his cloak. It had   
a few smudges here and there, seeing as he hadn't bothered to polish it even once over the Summer.   
Percy seemed to think this was an absolute crime. He whispered the words, Cybil had   
already launched into a long speech about what their responsibilities would be this year.  
P  
"Ron, that's nonsense, they picked you for a reason. You obviously have the qualities that   
the teachers are looking for, otherwise you wouldn't be here right now." Hermione held   
firm, and her own badge gleamed so brightly it could have poked an eye out.   
P  
"I still say it's a mistake..." Ron grumbled, crossing his arms.  
P  
Hermione gave him a sharp look. ITeachers didn't make mistakes. Especially if they   
were from Hogwarts./I "Shhhh!" she hissed through clenched teeth. "We're supposed to   
be listening."  
P  
"You look an awful lot like Crookshanks when you frown like that."  
P  
"Is that a bad thing?"  
P  
Ron was suddenly overthrown by a fit of loud coughing that caused eyes to rise from every   
seat in the room.   
P  
"Mr. Weasley, do you have a problem? Do I need to send you to Madam Pomfrey?" Cybil   
had a very tight lipped expression much like the one Professor McGonagall wore when she   
was upset.   
P  
"No." Ron looked down at his feet, but you could tell he really didn't feel much remorse. It   
wasn't his idea to be made a prefect.   
P  
"Good. Well then, since you have volunteered, what is your opinion on the subject of new   
uniforms. Do you agree with Miss Quirke?"  
P  
"I was only just saying that...don't you listen? Really. What kind of first impression is P  
"Orla, please just continue. I assure you, there will be no more interruptions."  
P  
"Very /I." She twirled a piece of hair around her finger, and made something of a loud popping noise with her tongue against her teeth. Much like she was chewing on a large wad of gum. Spit cracking. Quite apparently she wasn't, chewing on gum, that is, for her mouth opened wide every time she spoke. "As I was saying," Her overcrowded teeth were more than visible. Pink tongue. Masses not nearly pearly. Beige, if you were generous.  
P  
"I was saying..."  
P  
"Yes, Orla?"  
P  
"Oh, blimey, you made me forget!" A small wail escaped her lips. It was all that stupid red-head's fault. Stupid, stupid.  
P  
"Well. We'll just have to come back to you."  
I  
Black. And Cold. Silent. A small girl sat hunched over at the foot of her bed staring at her   
solemn self in her mirror. All she could see was the blur of features and an inky outline.   
She couldn't see her own tears that were spilling in hot torrents down her, now blotchy,   
cheeks. They were there all the same and she wore them proudly. Her tears were her   
battle scars. They were nothing to by ashamed of. It only filled her with more disdain for   
whoever had made her upset. She couldn't see the yelling. But she could hear it clear as   
anything. The yelling hadn't stopped for what seemed like hours upon minutes upon hours.   
There were screams of hate, accusations, and loud screeches of a sob. She hated it. Hated   
them for doing this to her.  
P  
"I don't want to end up like that. Ever. That's why it will never happen to me." She thought   
out loud. "That's why I'll die before I ever love anyone. I swear it. I swear it on this." With   
a springing of a new idea, she glanced the dagger that hung on her wall. On display. How   
stupid was it to display something that could kill you? Loosening its position she freed it and   
brought it down gashing through her right palm. Warm blood poured from the cut, and she   
brought it to her mouth. "I swear it on my blood."  
P  
Blaise woke with a start, why had she been brought back to that memory? Why? Up until   
that moment she had completely forgot what she had done that night. IBut how could   
I?/I She brought her left hand and saw that, yes, there was the scar plain as day. She   
hadn't known before how it had happened to get there and accepted it. Why did she   
remember it all now?   
P  
"It's a reminder. So you don't go back on your promise. You have already gone   
through with the final acceptance. You gave in." The same hooded figure she had met the   
previous night appeared next to her nightstand. Whoever they were, they seemed to like   
startling people.  
P  
"Thanks for scaring me yet again. You're lucky I don't cry out when a mad-person sneaks up and appears out of thin air, like most girls do. Otherwise someone would have found   
you out by now."   
P  
"I see that I am not welcomed." The stranger's face couldn't be seen, and it was impossible   
for Blaise to tell whether there was an angry expression there.  
P  
"No you're not, but what are you talking about? What was the final acceptance? WHY was   
there a final acceptance? How did you even bloody well know about that? I didn't even   
remember that until now. Have you been stalking me my entire life or something? A   
great profession, really." Blaise rolled her eyes. It was not to her liking when she couldn't   
understand. Not at all.  
P  
"I do not stalk people." The stranger seemed to take her comment seriously. "I only know.   
That is my duty, and that is all /I must know. There is nothing else to it. Except   
that you had made a promise and it must be kept."   
P  
"Why do you care?" Blaise asked, no one, absolutely no one had ever bothered to get   
something out of her this much. What did the promise really have to do with this person?  
P  
"Because you went through with the final acceptance. As I said before. How many times   
must I say it?" The stranger crossed their arms in what must have been an action to indicate   
their impatience.  
P  
"Until you start making some ruddy sense! WHAT IS THE FINAL ACCEPTANCE? I do not   
understand. Can-you-please-explain-it-to-me. There, was that simple enough for you? Stop   
being so damn mysterious." Blaise was yelling to the point that that the curtains that hung   
around her bed rustled. Pansy was snoring so loudly in the next bed that it didn't phase her.  
P  
"Ah, yet I thrive so on mystery. It is my essence." Her comment seemed to have pleased   
the stranger as there was a sudden lifting in their voice.  
P  
"EXPLAIN!!! RIGHT NOW!! And you are not leaving this room until you do so!" Blaise   
reached inside a bag that was slung over one of her bedposts and pulled out her wand.   
With a quick swish she jabbed it right into the chest of the hooded guest. It appeared that   
she had plans to use it as a physical weapon, for the wood, instead of as a magical one.  
P  
"Do not threaten me, please. Your efforts are meaningless and hasty. Please calm down. I   
will explain all that is necessary." One hooded hand was held out silently commanding her   
to stop.  
P  
And in a very slow response Blaise carefully lowered the wand, all the same never letting   
her eyes leave the figure. "Go on then. I'm waiting." She crossed her arms preparing   
herself for whatever this daft character might say.  
P  
"Do you remember yesterday on the moor? In the gathering, to be specific?" The stranger   
started.  
P  
"Yes, but how do you.." Blaise wanted to know how this person knew everything.  
P  
"As I said I know because that is my duty. Do not question me. Shall I continue? Or must   
you further interrogate me?" The stranger sighed deeply in impatience.  
P  
"Go on. I don't have any questions," Blaise prompted, "yet."   
P  
"Thank you. As I was saying /I, my dear, was the final acceptance."   
P  
"WHAT?" She shouted and managed to knock down a glass that had been sitting on her   
nightstand. With a sickening crash hundreds of shards bounced across the stone floors.   
The water slipping through the cracks. Blaise ignored it. Filch could clean it up tomorrow. A bad habit of restlessness, sleep-walking, that was the cause. It was all one big accident, to be easily forgotten.  
P  
"The clearing when - " The stranger didn't seem to pleased to go on explaining everything   
over quite so many times.  
P  
"I know /I!" Blaise interrupted in annoyance. "Just what did I do to seal that   
promise? I was hardly even in a right state of mind then."  
P  
"Oh, but you were in a perfect state of mind." This was apparently amusing to the stranger.  
P  
"And you were there weren't you?!" She accused the stranger. " Were you the one talking to   
me...the voice?"  
P  
"There was no one talking to you that day." The stranger pointed out calmly.  
P  
"Yes there was!" Blaise yelled. " I know there was. I heard them! If I'm sure about anything   
I'm sure there was someone there. They were telling me that it was what I wanted.."  
P  
"It was. And there was not a single person there but yourself, unless you count that boy as   
one." Repeated the fact, thought it did not seem to sink itself into Blaise.  
P  
"What? You mean Malfoy? No, I wasn't talking about him. There was someone else there,   
though. I couldn't see it. I only heard it." Blaise insisted, and her voice faltered   
slightly. Maybe, if she hadn't seen them, maybe it really all was in her mind? No! That   
couldn't be it. This stranger was telling her that it was the acceptance. She had done   
something. It had all happened. She wasn't crazy, it couldn't happen, not to her. Wasn't she thinking now, seeing? Not babbling like an idiot, hopefully. II'm perfectly composed. And I am not crazy.P  
"You do not seem to understand do you?" Perhaps sympathy was what the stranger was   
feeling for her, or instead trying to cope with someone who was completely unaware of what was happening to them.  
P  
"No, I do not. Look at me. See my face? This expression - it means I am confused." Blaise   
exaggerated her features. "Now who's being oblivious?"  
P  
"I have told you all that you need. Do not tarry, or go back on your word. I shall see you   
when the time comes." With a flourish the cloaked stranger held one hand twirling it as they   
came down into an extravagant bow. "One thing more, do not talk of expression it brings   
me to sense quite a state of irony. And I do not like that." A burst of light followed as, right   
in front of Blaise's eyes, the figure vanished.  
P  
"So much for dramatic exits." The strange glow that had filled the room vanished once that   
strange person had disappeared. Everything was strange. Once again Blaise was left in   
darkness.   
P  
Classes the next day were among all means uneventful. Nothing exploded in Care of   
Magical Creatures, and Professor Binns seemed, if possible, even more dead than usual.   
Ginny didn't even have her recurring daydream all through class. Daydreams were too   
tiring for a day like this. Everyone else would have agreed with her, not that she talked   
about liking Draco often. After the incident on the Hogwarts Express two days ago Ginny   
wasn't likely to tell a single person about her secrets.   
P  
That evening Ginny sat quietly in the corner of the Gryffindor Common Room. Hunched   
over the pile pf homework she had been given. Their was a particularly long essay she had   
to finish for Transfiguration. The teachers had not been easy with them their first few days   
at school. It must have been their idea that they should start the year with a Bang! "How   
thoughtful of them." Ginny muttered as she moved her aching hand along the piece of   
parchment. She'd only filled about two lines so far.   
P  
"Ginny! Hi!" A familiar face approached, as she saw the little girl she'd talked to the other   
night. She had a huge bag full of books slung around her shoulder and it looked like she   
would fall down any second, making her look reminiscent of Hermione.   
P  
"Oh, hi Jeanette. Have you got plenty of homework too?" Ginny looked up, she didn't think   
the teachers would be that hard on first years. Perhaps they were putting new teaching   
techniques into practice.  
P  
"We got some, not too much though. I went to work right away and finished it. I   
stopped down at the library to get some books. I want to learn everything!" Now she really   
sounds like Hermione, Ginny thought.   
P  
"Well, I umm better get to work. Lots to do you know." Ginny continued to stare at the   
empty piece of parchment. "Actually, never mind, I can finish this later." She set her books   
to the side, relieved she wouldn't have to look at them for awhile. Procrastination was   
welcomed with her.  
P  
"Are you sure?" Jeanette asked with wide eyes. "You might have to stay up late t--"  
P  
"No it's perfectly fine. I don't mind. Thinking too much about transfiguration gives me   
a headache anyway." Ginny reassured her.  
P  
"Ok. Oh I forgot why I was here in the first place. I found this in the hall, I think it might be   
yours." Jeanette pulled something gold-looking out of her pocket and handed it to Ginny.  
P  
"Thanks, but I don't think it's--" Ginny looked down at the small locket that Jeanette had   
handed her. It must have been an heirloom, because it didn't resemble the make of   
anything in that day. Tiny crystals were set around the border of the heart, and with little   
effort Ginny managed to pry it open. There was a picture inside. A red-haired girl was   
beaming, and beside her was. Draco. No it couldn't be. It positively couldn't.  
P  
"Where did you get this?" Ginny asked in bewilderment.  
P  
"Oh, found it in the hall."  
P  
"Yeah, you told me that, but...how did you know it was mine?" Ginny lied, but she didn't   
care.  
P  
"Aren't you the girl in the picture? I thought she looked an awful lot like you. If she's   
not I'm sorry." Jeanette hurried.  
P  
"No, no don't be sorry. Thanks for finding this. She does look like me doesn't she? I   
mean, that is me." Ginny found she was very bad at this lying business.  
P  
"Ok. I don't mean to be nosy or anything. But who's that?" Jeanette pointed towards the   
boy in the picture.  
P  
"A friend, a very good friend." Ginny said finally, and tucked the locket close to her.  
P  
Blaise stood on tip toe pressed against the window. She was peering out through the gaps   
between the drawn blinds. At this rate their would be indents in her face from standing like   
that for too long, but she had to see what was happening. Fingers brushed against the back   
of her neck making hairs rise. "Come to tell me of my demise again?" She whipped around   
her hair swinging with her. "Oh, it's you."  
P  
"You sound disappointed." Draco held that all too familiar smirk and was leaning casually   
against the wall.  
P  
"That's because I am." She would have to find somewhere else...no, there wasn't anywhere   
else. She had to see what was happening. So she turned around, back to facing the   
window trying to ignore that Malfoy was behind her.  
P  
"What are you looking at?" Blaise heard his cool inquisitive voice; he never   
managed to get rid of that sarcasm.  
P  
"Nothing you would be interested in." She made a shooing motion with her hands, hoping   
he would take a hint.  
P  
"Well, how do you know I'm not interested?" Draco moved closer to her.  
P  
"That's the worst line I've ever heard, you know that? If you don't keep quiet I'm going to   
hurt you, again." Blaise held one hand poised in the air.  
P  
"Are you, really?" Sighing, she turned to see him with a smirk plastered across his pale   
face, and one eyebrow artfully raised. "I'd like that."  
P  
"Oh God, you're sick."   
P  
"I'm well aware of that aspect of my personality."  
P  
"Why are people always following me? Doesn't anyone at this school actually have a life? Ai."   
Blaise half whispered under her breath. It was true, it had been happening to her ever   
since the first day of school. IIf this goes on I might as well be a celebrity. At least then I could get all the benefits and not only the crazy stalkers. Especially not just the ones who want to kill me.P  
"I do have a life, thank you." Draco muttered with a tinge of annoyance.  
P  
"I'm sure you do." Why did he have to keep talking to her? She squinted to better see   
outside. Something was rising in the sky; very faint but still visible. Black smoke began   
dancing across the reddened sky making some sort of...figure. Oh that helped. A figure.   
But it was all that Blaise could say for the strange thing suspended in midair. It was   
impossible to tell.   
P  
"Whatever you're looking at can't be half as interesting as me." The sound of Draco's   
voice was starting to wear at the ends of Blaise's patience.  
P  
"Really? Actually I get queasy thinking about you. Not that I ever do think about you.   
I don't fancy putting myself through such torture. I wouldn't call that interesting. If you say   
so. I guess I'll have to take your word on that." Her eyebrows shot to the ceiling, her   
words dripping in sweetness further intensified her dislike.  
P  
Blaise had been strangely interested in looking out of the window for the past few minutes.   
It was a wonder seeing her interested in anything. She had a way of being bored no matter   
what was going on.   
P  
The thought of what she was looking at troubled him. And creeping like a cat, he stood   
beside her...peering out the same window with the soft cascade of a drifting curtain fluttering   
around them.  
P  
"What are you doing?! Go away! Don't tou--" Draco had his arms wrapped around her   
waist, She was gazing at him, what was that in her eyes? He saw   
himself leaning forward until their lips barely touched they were within a hair's breath of   
each other.  
P  
Blaise's eyes quickly changed and she jumped back abruptly. "Malfoy, what are you looking   
at me like that for?" This time it was noticeable that she wasn't yelling, instead speaking in   
a softer tone. She almost didn't have to ask the question. Looking flustered she backed   
away forgetting completely what she had seen outside. "I have to go. Now."  
P  
Snape stood before the class, his eye lit up with a bright malevolent light. "Today our   
lesson is on sleeping draughts. Fairly easy, but for you lot I'm not so sure." He sneered   
baring his pointed yellowed teeth. Brining his fingertips so the pads rested forming a small   
pyramid he spoke, "Now tell me, one of you must know what ingredients are needed for   
this?" Hermione as usual thrust up her hand immediately and as usual she was ignored.   
Neville had already been sent down to the hospital wing. Instead of transfiguring his pickle   
into a shrub, he'd preformed the spell on his hand. Snape had to find other prey. The   
Potter boy? He had a feeling her knew the answer. Snape's eyes rested on Blaise, who at   
the moment was idly looking at the wall. "Miss Zabini, I suppose you know the answer?"  
P  
"To what?" She lifted her eyes lazily. Paying attention in class was clearly not one of her   
strong points.  
P  
"Were you not paying attention for the past five minutes? I explained to the class that   
we would be studying sleeping draughts today. It's a wonder you're in Slytherin. A   
disgrace to the house I'd be glad to say. But I am not permitted to do so." Loud sniggers   
resounded from the left side of the room where the Slytherins sat. Pansy in fact was   
clapping and her little crowd quickly imitated her.  
P  
"Well said Professor!" Pansy hooted trying to flash Snape a toothy smile.  
P  
"Quiet down class." Snape said after the cheers had died down. His enjoyment was not   
hard to point out. He loved tormenting others. It was almost a hobby of his. "We have to   
get started. I've selected your partners for today. Let's see..." The class waited anxiously   
for him to begin. "Granger you are with Morgane." A medium-built girl with dark   
hair and light eyes walked to sit beside her, with a slight frown. " Mr. Malfoy you are with Brown. Potter, go over and work with Bulstrode." Harry winced as he glanced the   
rather large menacing girl that approached him. "Weasley and Smith." Ron could   
have hollered out at that moment as he joined the familiar prefect. "Zabini and   
Finnigan." Snape continued to run down the list of pairings until every Gryffindor sat beside   
a Slytherin most of them with disappointment written all over their faces.  
P  
Each student was careful to only place one fine unicorn hair into the potion as they began to   
prepare their ingredients. Blaise was doing everything hurriedly, so that it would be over   
with as soon as possible. She nearly missed cutting her fingers off at a couple of   
instances.  
P  
"Don't you think you should, umm, slow down a bit?" Seamus eyed her wearily.  
P  
"No." She didn't pause for one second, let alone look up.  
P  
"Oh." Seamus looked plainly frightened. He must have thought Blaise was a psycho who   
would as soon start hacking /I with the knife, instead of the turtle's tail. It   
was reasonable, he told himself. Perfectly logical.  
P  
Blaise had thrown in all the ingredients into the cauldron at last, and hovered over it beating   
it quickly with a large spoon. Her eyes were slitty; the mixture made them tear up. Her   
black hair was flying about her face every which way. It would have been expected of her   
to cackle at that moment. The scent however managed to let itself creep its vapors into her   
nose and mouth. Her eyelids filled with impossibly heavy sand. With a quieted sigh   
Blaise felt herself drifting.  
I  
The light in the room shot away. She was no longer in potions class. A small, mold tinged,   
wrought iron bench sat where her chair would have normally been. Seamus wasn't there.   
Or anyone else. There was nothing else to do so Blaise sat down, waiting. Instantaneously   
Snape appeared with a loud pop in front of her. He held a long pointed bamboo stick   
between his hands, he tossed it back and forth, perhaps debating whether to strike her with   
it. With a crack he whipped it towards the wall. A map appeared in its place. "You are   
here!" The map became a tunnel that sucked Blaise in. Bringing her to that very spot.   
Snape was no where to be seen.   
P  
There were black shadows standing in the distance. The moon was not more visible than a sliver. They spoke of a   
fallen angel, fate, and the solution. She head horrible laughter from them. One of the   
hooded shadows turned to her. And with one cold sleeve lifted, shouted, it drew back it's   
hood. The cloak fell to the ground leaving the mirror of erised standing in its place. Blaise   
stepped to touch it and it disappeared. She was too. Her hands, they weren't there   
anymore, hardly a translucent glow was all that was left. And all the while the taste of roses   
lingered in her mouth. The shadows were gone now. Everything when white. The walls, the   
air, everything. She was standing on nothing. She was in nothing. She was alone. She   
wasn't scared anymore. She wasn't angry or sad. But she wasn't happy either...  
P  
"Come on wake up. Class is almost over." the white image shook before her eyes and   
began to shift.  
P  
"No. I want to stay here. It's nice." Blaise murmured.  
P  
"I like this as much as you, but I've got to get to my next class."  
P  
"What?" Blaise was awoken from the spell and the pale white pearliness changed to silver.   
INo! Not again./I She frowned with disdain. Blinking to adjust to the light, Blaise   
brought her hands up and rubbed her eyes. She was practically sprawled in Malfoy's lap.   
Her head had been resting on his shoulder. "What the--" She jumped up as fast as she   
possibly could. This looked bad. In all aspects.  
P  
"Miss Zabini, I thank you for offering to be so kind as to take your public display of affection   
elsewhere. In other words, as you might put it, 'get a room'." Snape was sneering back at   
her. He hadn't done anything to try and wake her up now had he? This must have been a   
diabolical plot of his. That must've been how he spent all his time. A sad, sad man.  
P  
"All the same Snape. I'd like to make it clear that I do not have feelings for Malfoy over   
there. I'd thought you'd like to know." Blaise didn't think that anyone would believe   
her of course, first off no one ever took her word for anything and secondly... look what   
she'd done.  
P  
"Excuse me, but you are to address me with Professor. Is that clear?" Snape growled.  
P  
"Ah, well then /I Snape. I give you my greatest apology." Blaise faked a   
small curtsy.  
P  
"You know I am still sitting here." Draco interrupted them, they had been talking like he   
wasn't even there.  
P  
"Well then Malfoy, what exactly happened? You're not even my partner, Seamus is. Why   
were you there?" Blaise turned on him.  
P  
"After you inhaled the potion you started falling back and that stupid git wouldn't have done   
anything, I happened to be walking by - so I caught you. Simple as that."  
P  
"Oh, well thanks then. I think."  
P  
"This is a perfect example of what can happen when you do not listen in class." Snape   
found it the perfect time to give a lecture.  
P  
"What? I'm sorry but I lost you there."  
P  
"You obviously did not hear me tell the class distinctively not to inhale the vapors from the   
potion. It will not work in full effect as the draught itself but can still work its magic. You   
know that now of course," Snape sneered back.  
P  
"Well you know it's in the air, it's kind of hard to decide what to breathe." Blaise countered.  
P  
"You know well what I mean Ms. Zabini, I've had enough of you."  
P  
"All likewise." She said, giving him her most bored expression.  
P  
"Do you need to be sent to detention?" Snape tried in an effort to keep the girl quiet.  
P  
"What do you have planned for me this time." Blaise spoke so lightly that it seemed to be   
an everyday occasion with her.  
P  
Snape slammed a fist hard down onto his desk. "I will not tolerate this behavior!"  
P  
"Fine, then." Blaise turned out and walked to the other side of the room.  
P  
Meanwhile, Pansy Parkinson was sobbing in the corner making quite a ruckus, "But I though   
h-h-he liked meeee!" She wailed in a high pitched voice. "I'm s-supposed to be his   
girlfriend! Meeee! I tell you! Meee!"  
P  
"Pansy, honestly, stop that! It's awfully degrading. We all know how much you fancy   
Malfoy. There is no need to stuff it in our ears. Shut up, ok?" Hermione's head was   
beginning to hurt from all the commotion. Pansy gaped at her in surprise, her lip   
quivered for an instant and she went right on back to sobbing - even louder.  
P  
"Hermione!" Ron exploded.  
P  
"What?" She turned tiredly to face him, leaning on one elbow propped onto the table.  
P  
"That's not like you! Even if that is Pansy Parkinson. You made the noise louder! Louder, and it's already bad enough." He said with a frown.  
P  
"I guess you don't know me as well as you thought you did. I'm not a little prick who's only   
worries are about school and rules like you make me out to be. I also very well have my   
own opinions! There are a lot of things you don't know about me Ron Weasley!"  
P  
"You're sure in a bad mood today." After a long pause Ron added. "Wait until I tell Ginny   
this! She's sure to stop liking Malfoy!" He was grinning ear to ear at this new thought.  
P  
"You will most certainly not do anything of the sort!" Hermione screamed at him. "Don't   
you have the tiniest sense of consideration? Don't you care about anyone at all, except   
yourself? That would completely upset her! You obviously are clueless about everything!"   
Hermione jabbed an angry finger at him. "If you tell Ginny anything about this, I won't   
speak to you ever again!"  
P  
"That would be a relief." Ron spoke out.  
P  
"You are just the--"  
P  
"That's enough, Herm. Tell it to someone else." Ron seethed with a half-bothered expression.  
P  
"Oh!" Hermione screamed back at him, and she walked right out of the classroom. She had   
only ever left class early once, and that was in Divination. She sure is changing, Ron   
thought. He didn't see however, that a tear had spilled down onto her cheek as she walked   
away.  
P  
"What was that all about?" Harry came over from the other side of the room. For the   
moment the whole room was in chaos. It made no difference that they had all abandoned   
their work. Besides class would be over in about two minutes.  
P  
"You mean me and Hermione, or--"  
P  
"Everything." Harry finished for him, with the remnants of a smile on his face.  
P  
"I have no idea."  
/CENTER 


	3. Fairy Tales

P  
When the stranger walks   
BR  
In their robes of red   
BR  
That lay askew on their slight frame   
BR  
Robes of blood to warn them   
BR   
An elaborate k carved into the skin of their right palm   
BR   
A bright wine k   
BR  
That will glow when it is time   
BR  
When the stranger walks...  
P  
Ginny read the passage once over, she had been sitting in the library for the past hour   
trying to do research on her project for history of magic. And as she had been looking   
through one of the books, she'd found this. "Strange." She whispered. There was no text   
to follow it, almost as if the author had dropped their quill in mid-sentence. Almost as if it   
did   
not belong in the book. Ginny shook herself quickly. She was fast to make a big deal out   
of nothing.   
P  
September was filled with more tests, and homework than anyone could stand. Ginny was   
right, the teachers did have plans underway. In face of a war, they had decided it best to   
show the world that they could still carry life on as well as it had ever been. And they also   
seemed to expect, that final exam results would be better than they had ever been.   
Evidently to most of the students, excepting Hermione Granger and a small few like her,   
this was not their idea of fun. With the Halloween feast growing nearer, students began to   
get excited. After that they only had, what? Two months until winter holidays.  
P  
"What are you, and why did you find me?" Ginny was peering through wide eyes at the   
locket that lay with its chain coiled in her right hand. She couldn't bring herself to leave it.   
Was that really her who stood beside Draco? The picture Draco winked at her in response -   
with those slanted silver eyes that wouldn't let her go. Ginny barely even breathed afraid   
that reality would hit her hard in the face if she did. However long she sat there, she didn't   
know. Within the hypnotic confusion of the moment she didn't care, or think, to tell. Not   
until someone interrupted her. There was a shuffle of feet outside the door, and Ginny   
unwillingly shut the clasp of the locket and threw it quickly around her neck. She made   
sure to tuck it into her shirt, so no one should notice and ask to see it. What if they took it   
away?   
P  
Anna trampled noisily into the room, with packages and bags nearly piling so high as to   
block her sight. She looked ready to pitch forward any second, but Ginny was quickly at   
her side and had caught a few of the bags. "Thanks." Anna said blowing away her bangs   
which had fallen into her eyes. "I thought I was going to collapse right about then. - What's   
that?" She grabbed Ginny's arm abruptly, causing her bangles to jingle and all the bags   
managed to fall to the floor, making her former attempts to keep everything together   
pointless. In Ginny's right palm there was a very distinct row of eight miniscule symbols that   
looked as if they had been embedded into her skin.   
P  
"I was probably just gripping something too hard; it could have come off the spine of a   
book. It's really nothing to worry about." Ginny loosened her hand from Anna's grip and   
bent over to gather the packages she had dropped. "What'd you buy all this for?"  
P  
"Early Christmas shopping. But that's not important. It says something, I'm sure, come   
here." Anna grabbed Ginny once again by the wrist and pulled her over in front of the   
mirror that was placed against one wall. "Look." She held Ginny's palm out, and was about   
to continue with an explanation of what it said.  
P  
"I don't see anything. Just you holding out my hand in front of a mirror." Ginny pointed   
out.  
P  
"Oh. But I thought -" Anna looked disappointed for half a second before jumping right back up. "Come on   
let's get to the feast.  
P  
"Why don't you go down first, and I can catch up later. I've got," Ginny paused, "things to do before I go down. Wait for me, ok?"  
P  
"Sure." Anna looked reluctant to leave, as if she did not trust Ginny to be by herself, though she left the room without objection. "See you there."  
P  
Blaise pulled a brush through her hair as she sat getting ready for the feast. Embarrassed   
as   
she was to admit it, she had in fact decided to go in costume. She was surprised she was   
going at all. "Well at least then I won't get any strange visitors," she said. The hooded   
person wouldn't dare show up there, would they?   
P  
"Now let's see if this works." Blaise held the book so close to her face that it pressed   
against her nose. Somehow she thought that if she looked at something long and hard   
enough it would make sense." I have to be sure to get this right." She tapped her wand   
gently, and then positioned it so that it touched one strand of her hair, still balancing the   
book in one unsteady hand. "Curelious Capillagorious!" She called out afraid that she had   
somehow messed up the spell. "It worked!" Her hair hung this time in long ringlets, she   
mussed it up with her fingers a bit. If she was going to do something she always did it   
right. A rare occasion it was when Blaise ever tried. Her trunk sat at the foot of her bed,   
with her costume draped neatly over it. A pair of transparent fire colored wings, with dark   
embers of wine and red, had been tucked neatly inside. She hadn't wanted to let on to   
anyone in her dormitory that she was actually going to the feast. Pansy probably would   
have ridiculed her to no end. With curses from missed spells, and the occasional dropping   
of objects, Blaise managed to get ready for the feast with out letting anyone know what she   
  
was doing. Still it wasn't clear to her why she was going in the first place. Oh well. Maybe   
she could 'mingle' with her fellow students. Eurgh. Blaise was briefly reminded of her   
mother. "I'll never ever use that word again, uck. I won't even think about it!" She   
frowned and left the room for the great hall looking very red indeed.  
P  
The din from the feast could be heard long before she got to the staircase, she was bound   
to be one of the last there. Unless Pansy had been holing up in the bathroom the whole   
time, determined to look perfect for Malfoy. Over the past few weeks she had given Blaise   
nothing but dirty looks, and an upturned nose in all her classes. It wasn't anything new, but if it could be said, Pansy seemed to have an even deeper dislike for her. Frankly she didn't   
care if Pansy's so-called plan worked or not. That girl had some serious issues about   
self-acceptance, and jealousy that she had to deal with.  
P  
Blaise faltered when she reached the top of the great staircase. Was it her, or did it   
seem like the hundreds of pairs of eyes had turned to look up as she descended down.   
Let's hope I don't trip, she thought. There was almost a hush, for no reason in   
particular that she could think of, but Blaise sensed it nonetheless. Do they do this   
every time someone walks down the stairs? The prefects probably were only looking to   
shun her for arriving late. And everyone else - well wasn't there a clock up there? Blaise   
turned her head, no; there was no clock upon the wall. She had watched that muggle   
movie far too many times, and it seemed to start taking its effect.  
P  
Slowly she began to walk in the direction of the Slytherin table, and then she caught site of   
Malfoy's face. Before she could let any thoughts run through her head, Blaise took a sharp   
turn in the other direction and sat down right next to Harry.  
P  
"Wutter 'ou doin ere!" Ron spluttered, as he nearly choked on his pumpkin juice, leaving a   
bright orange stain dribbling down his front.  
P  
"Ron!" Hermione hissed through clenched teeth. "You're being very rude."   
P  
"I'm doing exactly what it looks like -- sitting here. And Weasley, I'd change that shirt if I   
were you. It does go remarkably well with your hair, but all the same it doesn't look that   
appealing." Blaise narrowed her brows as she said so. She had no intention of sitting at the   
Slytherin table.  
P  
"Why don't you go sit with your boyfriend, eh? Are you spying for the Slytherins, going to   
tell them everything we say?" Ron said with a frown after he had wiped the orange mess of   
his front.  
P  
"Malfoy is not my boyfriend anymore than he's yours. Or, is he, now? Why, Ron, I didn't know you were like that."  
P  
"I'm not."  
P  
"My, my, you don't have to take it /I offensively. Honestly." Blaise placed one hand over the other, smiling up at him. "If I'm really awful conversation, why don't you let me sit here. Without comment. I promise not to bother you."  
P  
"Fine." Ron said, calming down a considerable bit.  
P  
Not one word passed between Harry, Hermione, and Ron as they sat quite uncomfortable   
their wary eyes on Blaise. "You can talk, right?" Blaise questioned after several minutes.   
"Don't mind me, I'm just sitting here - of course. I really don't care about what you say." The three   
continued to stare at their plates and kept silent.   
P  
"Herm, what's the pumpkin juice like?" Harry spoke out after awhile.  
P  
"Good. It's cold, because of the ice, and it well, tastes like pumpkin except its juice."   
P  
Blaise gave them an odd look before turning around, getting up, and leaving the table,   
shaking her head as she did so. The moment after, the friends broke into loud   
conversation.   
P  
She couldn't turn around and walk back to the Slytherin table. They'd ask too many   
questions; she didn't want to and wouldn't be able to answer them all. There was no way   
that Blaise was going to dance. She did not lower herself to such standards. Instead, she   
began walking in the direction of the nearest door. The teachers had never said you   
couldn't go outside, now had they?  
P  
Ginny was again alone in the respect that she was talking to no one. She didn't see Anna   
waiting for her when she'd come down, she'd probably forgotten. Even Jeanette wasn't   
there. "What a sorry case I am, my only friends are first years." It was nearly true of   
course. There was no one she had to talk to. She put her head down onto the table, her   
arms bent neatly around her, covering her face like a barricade. "I must be becoming a   
moody sullen teenager, who has nothing better to do than mope around about her   
problems. What fun." No one even seemed to realize that she was talking to herself,   
everyone around her was much too engaged in their own conversations to even care, "And   
now I'm acting like a jealous pratt, what next? Even talking to Colin is better than this. I   
don't care if I do have to sit through another one of his boring lectures about Harry."   
P  
"You really think I'm that boring?" Colin said, he happened to be sitting adjacent from   
Ginny.  
P  
"Sorry Colin, I didn't see you there." How perfect. Colin was sitting right next to her and   
she didn't even realize it. This meant one of two things One, she was in desperate need of   
vision correction. Two, Colin was extremely quiet. Ginny knew well the latter was not the   
case. She hoped he didn't notice she hadn't actually answered his question.  
P  
"What's this about adolescence?" He asked, his voice momentarily squeaking as he said so.   
Ginny couldn't help it and a small giggle escaped from her.  
P  
"Colin you're crazy." Ginny shook her head, but you could still see a faint glimmer of what   
might have been a smile.  
P  
"And did you know that Harry prefers strawberry jam over raspberry jam? He also likes to   
put on his left sock first." Colin seemed quite proud to know that last bit of information.  
P  
"Colin! You haven't been spying on him while he's dressing have you? Even I never went   
that far!" He only stared at her with a twitchy smile on his face, and turned back to his   
bronze plate.  
P  
It was cold. Very cold. That was one of the few thoughts that seemed to have penetrated   
Blaise's mind as she rubbed her hands over her bare arms. The wind bit at the end of nose   
and cheeks leaving her face flushed with a pale-sort-of pink tinge. She should have   
brought a coat. Now she would most likely die of hypothermia before she even got back to   
the castle. Instead of turning around and stepping back inside, like any normal person   
would have surely done, Blaise stood there frozen to the spot. It was no wonder that   
no one else had chosen to venture out in - this.   
P  
A scatter of flower petals swirled around her ankles. She had unknowingly walked into a   
small closure. Topiary garden by the looks of it. Forest green unicorns, phoenixes,   
nymphs, and even one small stag were staring through their empty holes of eyes. Ivy had   
been draped around what looked to be an old porcelain fountain. Chipped at the base where   
someone might have kicked it. And spurting from its mouth was warm pink water. To   
think of it, everything in this place had seemed oddly warm. No, not odd, nice. A nice   
change from the harsh wind. In the center hung a solitary wooden swing suspended from a worn ivory rope. The rope though was not tied to anything. No surprise there, it was   
Hogwarts, it was expected after all to find queer things lurking here and there. Likewise,   
the swing did not fall to the ground when Blaise sat on it. She kicked her legs out letting a   
gentle breeze that drifted in carry the swing back and forth.  
P  
Ginny gave one last deep sigh before stepping up to retreat to her dormitory. She didn't seem to quite fit into the scene. It was best not to ruin everyone's happiness, or so it appeared. Colin was busy staring quite dreamily at Harry, and had been doing so ever since she had spoken to him that night. It was no use trying to talk to a person who clearly had only one subject in mind. Especially if you wanted to talk about other subjects. And she didn't want to let on to what the other was in this case.  
P  
"Ginny?" Hermione looked up. "Where are you going?"  
P  
"Nowhere, I'm only tired that's all. I might go to sleep." Ginny spoke dismissively and continued to walk toward the stairs.  
P  
"Oh, are you ok?" Hermione wrinkled her forehead and gave her a sympathetic looking smile.  
P  
"Yeah I'm fine, really I am." She lied. She was doing that a lot lately. No matter. That's all that she was really good for. She gave a weak wave before turning away.  
P  
"I wonder what's wrong with her sometimes." Ginny heard Ron say sarcastically as she walked up the stairs. He apparently had thought she was out of earshot, but like more often that not he was wrong. There really was something wrong with her. She didn't know what exactly; what it was that was bothering her. There were so many things wrong, but she found it hard to point one of them out. Or it could be as simple as one word. This thought she quickly pushed away. She was not getting worked up over /I. It couldn't be. It couldn't possibly be. Ginny came to the conclusion that she had problems, maybe not lowered to the same degree of other fourth years, but she could deal with them. Couldn't she? This question dulled over her every step of the way to her room. And its words only became even more mocking.  
P  
The Fat Lady was already coming into view. Ginny hadn't really paid attention to how fast she was walking, for her mind had buried itself in her thoughts. The sleeves of the Fat Lady's pink dress looked to be slightly less poofed than normal. Her eyes held a sleep silly sort of look, and her head was tilted lazily to one side. She guessed that she'd had a tad too much to drink, it had happened before. Ignoring the hiccups that echoed abruptly every few seconds Ginny lazily said, "Withered toadstool," letting the portrait hole swing open with a creaky motion.  
P  
The common room was empty as she'd suspected it would be. Everyone was down there. Laughing and enjoying themselves. Having a ball. And she wasn't apart of it in any way. The emptied scene looked so devastatingly depressing, that Ginny did not pause for a moment before heading up the next set of stairs to the dormitory. She knew it too would be empty. Who would be up there when nobody was even in the common room? She took this as a good thing. She could be alone for awhile. Again.   
P  
Ginny slowly pulled the door open, and flicked the light switch near her left hand. The window seat at the end of the room somehow appeared welcoming tonight. Ginny crossed the floor, and undid the hanging golden tassels - throwing open the heavy velvour curtains. A sweet musty scent of old forgotten possessions, that had never been touched, filled the room. Obviously no one had been near the window lately. She brushed the dust away from the cushions and sat down, pulling her knees close to her chest.  
P  
From behind the cool frosted glass, the mountains before her looked distant and dreary. The caps of snow seemed to only fade away into the dark night leaving the rocky crags and craters to be exposed. With all their severity and hardness. Extraordinarily contrasting to the few stars managing to gleam beneath the heavy clouds that drifted to and fro. With so bright a light that nothing could compare to it. The moon had floated above the huddled mass, letting its silent rays reach her windowsill. They spread upon Ginny's face like a heavy overhead spotlight. Leaving dark shadows to rest with the darkness that lay in her heart. Making deep hollows of her eyes. The calm brown they normally took had dissolved into the black. Her lips stood out with an orange color, and her skin took on a queer paleness.   
P  
Ginny turned her head, so that the shadows shifted. Her eyes were brought to the light looking very wide and ghostly. She paused as if staring at someone, her listener. Her gaze was deep and fervid. "Does anyone really care?" She spoke the words harshly, but slowly. Truly wondering about what she had asked. She waited. Silently, and dipped down her head letting her eyes drop. Her hands were clasped tightly together. She seemed to think if she let go a voice would speak the truth. They would say no. It was what she was waiting for, and trying hard to stop at the same time.   
P  
Her eyes went quickly back to the looming mountains outside. The sad mountains. She would like very much to touch them, to walk the earth until she reached the very top. If she moved closer she could. Maybe she would land right atop the peak, and birds would nest around her with happy little chirps. The jump couldn't be that far. Gathering her courage Ginny unlatched the golden hook of the window and pushed it open, the thrillingly cold air spilled in uninvited. Tentatively she placed one shoe on the ledge, and then brought the other. She lowered herself down to a sitting position, her knuckles turning white from grasping the ledge with her hands. Her legs swayed back and forth, hundreds of feet above any solid ground. Ginny felt her grip loosening, her fingers relaxed and began to stray from their uncomfortable position.   
P  
Her feet steadied, and she brought up her arms over her head - out like the wings of a bird. She let the silent sounds of the wind lull her as her heavy eyes began to close, and she was being pulled in. Soon she would be happy. Soon she would be safe.  
P  
"You'll fall. Ginny! You're going to fall. Get the hell off of there. What are you doing?!" Jangling. Someone had turned the knob, and stepped into the room. They were rushing towards her. And they looked angry. So angry. Or were they scared? Ginny felt hands pulling her until she had fallen over and was on the floor. She opened her eyes and saw a tirade of bright flashy red. Her hair had fallen into her face; she pushed it away awkwardly.   
P  
"Why did you stop me?" She looked at the person who had saved her. It was Anna.  
P  
"What kind of question is that?! God, do you think I'd watch and let you die? I was getting worried when I didn't see you downstairs. And you didn't look quite right when I left you." Anna started off screaming what was the obvious, but her tone changed as she went on. "That's really insane, you know. Trying to jump off like that. Spells are loads easier and not nearly as messy. What if you'd fallen onto...onto a passing hippogriff or something. There's no doubt it'd tear you to shreds before you could say one word. You wouldn't want to end up food for it's babies, now would you?"  
P  
"Hmmm. Maybe it really wouldn't be so bad." Ginny didn't show any signs of laughter.  
P  
"Now, you aren't going to pull your depressed act on me. Get up. Come on. You are coming downstairs right now, and I'm not leaving you alone. You're not going to talk like that. And you're going to smile, or else." Anna had placed her hands on her hips, and was speaking in her bossy tone.  
P  
"Please, Anna. Not now." There was no hint of a smile, beneath her heavy lashes did not lie happiness - not at all.   
P  
"Ginny what is wrong with you?" Anna replied finally. She had seen the stare. With all it's melancholy. "I know something is wrong. Very much so if you ask me."  
P  
"I-I really don't know. I'm sure it's nothing. Just.."  
P  
"Just what?"  
P  
"If you don't tell me I can't understand. And I can't help you either."  
P  
"You wouldn't understand anyway. It's ok. Leave me alone for awhile, please. I don't feel like arguing. I really don't." The solemn expression had not faded from Ginny's face and she looked up hopefully. "Please." She could feel tears beginning to well up in her eyes, but she tried hard to keep them back. Anna, however, would not budge from her spot. Her feet were planted firmly into the carpet, and she did not appear as if she intended to move. Ginny bit the inside of her mouth until she could almost taste the blood. And finally, she lifted her gaze from the ground, and replied truthfully. "I don't know who I am anymore."  
I  
Do fairy tales exist? Not simply in the minds of the imaginative. When you close your eyes you see them, they are your dreams. And that is where they should remain. In books and dreams. Not for the real world. But then there lies one question. Is it possible for them to be confused for reality? This is where many loose themselves. It is hard to bring away those who say they have found an experience that is greater than living.   
P  
"I know you're there. You can't hide from me. I can hear you!" There was a faint rustling in the bushes that caught at Blaise's ears. She darted her eyes quickly around her, previous drowsiness was forgotten. "Come on! I- I can see you, you know. I can. And I know who you are." She said with an afterthought, maybe scare them into coming out. "It really is pointless not stepping out. You'll cut yourself on the thorns. Those rose bushes are really vicious. I should know. I cut myself on them." And she had in fact, just now she came to realize this. There was a small tear in the pad of her finger and a speckle of sticky red liquid still lay there.  
P  
Blaming it on unconsciousness, she sucked on the cut. Tasting her skin.  
P  
"You really know who I am?" A low voice finally answered, where from she didn't know.   
P  
"Yes, yes I do. Why are you watching me? Shouldn't you be inside?" Blaise responded, she had best try and be vague, so she could keep her charade on.  
P  
"I think you're mistaken." The voice replied after a few moments pause.  
P  
"Am I? How can you tell?" She tried to speak confidently, maybe that way she would give off the impression of assurity.  
p  
"Because I can. Then, if you know who I am, I have a question for you."  
P  
"Yeah, what is it?"  
P  
"Am I the person you'd want to be here?" The voice whispered, this was not the question that Blaise had been expecting, anything else really. But not that.  
P  
"What? No. Because then you wouldn't be a person. I'd rather not have anyone here. I like being alone. It suits me fine," was the only answer she could think of. She had a feeling, somehow, that this stranger was not the one she had met on an occasion before. This only proved to further confuse her. For, if they had met, weren't they then not a stranger at all? Even if they did remain nameless.  
P  
"Oh."   
P  
"Are you upset about that?" She truly could not have told what emotion was hidden behind the reply. It was all based upon the interpretation of a single word, which for her, was not of substance.  
P  
"If you know who I am, then why would you have to ask?" Question turned around at her. All she wanted was an answer.  
P  
"Just because I know who you are, doesn't mean I know what you're thinking. I'm not a bloody psychic or anything of that sort. God."  
P  
"I should not have hoped, then, that you would know."  
P  
"So, I guess, you are upset? You really shouldn't be, not over my opinion." It was new, though, she felt genuinely sorry for this person. Whoever they may be.  
P  
"That's what I want to tell myself. It isn't working, now is it? I can't help it."  
P  
"Why do you care so much?"  
P  
"Because- I -Why can't you accept anything? I don't know why." There was evident anger and frustration rising in their words.  
P  
"You know, it would be a lot easier to talk to you if I could see you."  
P  
"Would you talk to me?"  
P  
"Yes, of course, why not? Please, I promise. Show me who you are."  
P  
"Close your eyes."  
P  
"Why, that would - "  
P  
"Close your eyes."  
P  
"Alright." Blaise lowered her eyes, until all she could see was but a faint warm color glowing all around her. She waited tentatively for who it was that was waiting for her. Let the swing slowly come to a stop, and her feet dragged on the soft earth beneath her. So she sat, still, in a pause. If she was smiling, she could not have known. There was a soft brushing against her fingers, and she let them unwind from their tight grip of the ropes.   
P  
Until she was being taken up, by those hands. Without asking she knew it was time. At least for herself. Eyes opened, letting the light slowly filter into view. A golden haired figure was standing in front of her. Barely breathing. Deathly still. And a pair of silver eyes.   
P  
It seemed like hours that she stood there. Frozen. Unable to even move, or gasp, or scarcely even mutter a scream. Not that she would have wanted to. The world seemed to have stopped spinning, the air not taking the chance to move. Every petal of every flower down to the soft chirruping crickets had paused for her. Then she did something. Perhaps every feeling, every hope, every crazed dream, that had been feeding of off her dazed mind took it's only chance to escape. There was a strangled noise, a cry held back. And she threw her arms around his neck, never wanting to let go. Blaise stood there, her feet rocking silently, she didn't know if she was crying or laughing. And her head leaned carefully onto his shoulder.   
P  
With her motions paused and careful, she slowly and regretingly released her grip pulling herself back until she only held onto his fingertips. She spoke a rising question, answer, a single word, a name,"Draco." The burning gold did not stray to leave the silver that swirled beautifully in his eyes. And as quickly Blaise turned, walking towards the small gate at the entrance to garden. She didn't say goodbye, but with her eyes she had. And her steps were not nearly moving inches, until she had come out of the scope of the place.   
P  
Every pace then was fast, bouncing, almost skipping. A million thoughts and words sped around her mind until she was dizzy with exhaustion. Whether from her thinking, or the running, she did not know. Her feeling of elation only escaped her when she chanced to bump into someone else. Who happened to be wandering as well.  
P  
"Ms. Zabini, do you not think it late to be out? At this time of night, what could happen? Oh, we would not want /I harm to befall you, how dreadful that would be. I believe, for pure recklessness, this takes..what?..thirty points from Slytherin? I think I am being very forgiving with you, I could easily deduct more. Take this as a warning, and be thankful I do not send you to Professor Dumbledore." Snape stood sneering, and had caught her right hand, his grip ceased and she backed away instantly.   
P  
"I'm sorry. It won't happen again." What was that? Had she apologized? But she didn't stop to think about this, and headed for the door.   
P  
"Hurry, before something finds you!" Snape called out, as she ran blindly towards the castle.  
I  
Harry stood quietly letting his eyes drift over the rows of dusty boxes that rested on the crowded shelves. There were some neatly stacked in piles on the floor around him. The air was rather musty and he had to suppress a sneeze or cough every now and then. Mr. Olivander held the one that had chosen Harry in his hand. He seemed to be examining it. The shadowy figure then propped himself down, elbows placed in front, and stared intently into Harry's eyes. Long spindly fingers were left idle; he had lain the wand carefully at his side. Out of boredom they tapped with tiny clicks on the countertop. "Curious, very curious." Words were whispered and then brought the small set of square eyeglasses, hanging from a chain around his neck, to rest along the bridge of his lengthy nose. With a slow steady hand he held the wand out for Harry to take; it was to be taken with great care.   
P  
A crafty smile let itself play upon his lips before deepening into a serious one. Holding a deal of assurity in his seemingly shaky voice, his lips began to move, "We expect great things from you Mr. Potter." He spoke with soft great pauses to let every word have it's chance before sinking in. The whisper, though quiet, seemed to echo a thousand times along the walls of the dim shop. It would have not had at all the same effect if he had perhaps shouted, not nearly. Harry shook the messy bangs that had fallen out of his eyes in an effort to distract himself. It was very plainly obvious that he was frightened, but he would not let it be known. Mr. Olivander chose the moment to continue, "He who must not be named did great things too. Terrible, yes, but great." The last word stood out boldly resounding as a great amount of emphasis had been put into it. He placed one cold hand on Harry's shoulder and gave him a reassuring gaze.   
P  
Harry swallowed his breath, and backed away from his touch. With hasty steps he moved towards the door at the end of the room. "Good bye Mr. Olivander," and he paused for a moment before he spoke again, "th-thank you."  
P  
Shivers shot up Harry's back, a deathly icy air seemed to be engulfing his whole body. It crawled beneath his skin, and Harry pulled the blanket tighter around him to keep it out. He was hugging himself in the thick material, nearly clawing at his ribs, and yet he was still freezing. Stupid blanket was useless, though he still kept it around him. Cotton hugging his skin. Without it he felt, in a way, unprotected. Shaking beneath his cape, a loud crash penetrated from the window. Harry jumped out of bed just as suddenly. Running to the sill, he came to see that the latch had broken causing the shutters to fly open. Rain was now pouring in unrelenting. He could hear hisses, spits, the droplets of water thumping heavily. A deep melancholy howl echoed from the dark.  
P  
One of the soggy curtains flew up and slapped him across the face. Wind picked up momentum. He was thrown onto the ground by the force, but didn't sense the pain. His forehead was throbbing so badly he would have fallen in the end anyway.  
P  
"How come Fred and George got a lolly and you didn't give me one?" Ron whined as he turned on his side.  
P  
"What do you mean; I haven't got any candy." Harry croaked still clutching his forehead.  
P  
"Yes you have! In your pocket. Give it to me - now!!! Otherwise I'll hate you!" Ron screamed.  
P  
"Ask Seamus if he's got candy. I'm kind of having a bad moment here." Harry called out in exasperation.  
P  
"You're the worst mum ever," Ron grumbled and turned so his face was pressed into the pillow; muffling his words. Harry, realizing Ron had been asleep, inched carefully off the floor. With difficulty he managed to sit up and get back onto his feet. The window panes were strewn upon, and he hastened over to close them.  
P  
"Lovely weather we're having isn't it?" The voice startled him, but as Harry had begun to reach for one of the latches he saw that Denia was sitting quietly on the sill. She didn't appear to be at all bothered by the lashing wind and rain.  
P  
"How come you are always in my room late at night? Don't you sleep?" He spat out, slightly unnerved by the surprise.  
P  
"Sleep is for the weak at heart." She replied with an earnest smile, and hopped of from her seat.  
P  
"I see." Harry rose a careful eyebrow at the words. Denia had already started towards the end of the room. It almost seemed that she was not walking at all, but floating, her feet barely brushed the ground by the time she had sat on Harry's bed. She began to pull the pillows around her, fluffing them up every now and then.  
P  
"That isn't some sort of gesture, is it?" He said, perhaps overwhelmed by the thought of it.  
P  
"I'm cold, so I'm sitting down. I don't know what you're talking about. Could you please close the window - a draft's about to come in. One that's terrifically worse."  
P  
"I still haven't seen you around."  
P  
"Around where? I'm in all of your classes."  
P  
"You are?"  
P  
"Well I'm a Gryffindor, aren't I? We chose the same electives, so why wouldn't I be? You ask so many questions."  
P  
"Sorry, but I'm simply trying to make sure I'm not hallucinating. Seeing someone who claims to know you once every eternity and then having no one YOU know claim to know them is kind of disturbing. Thought I'd say that."  
P  
"I apologize for disturbing you."  
P  
"Well now that that particular matter's all tied up, what should we do?"  
P  
"I'm going back to sleep, and I don't know about you."  
P  
"I suppose I'm not doing a good job, now am I?"  
P  
"Job of what?"  
P  
"Oh, I'm trying to seduce you. But I find that's getting harder and harder everyday."  
P  
"What?!" Harry shout out, that was really not what he had been expecting her to say. Not at all.  
P  
"I have my reasons." And much like before she disappeared. This time she didn't even say goodbye. Harry walked dismissively toward his bed, with only confusion on his mind. Nothing made sense to him anymore. Nothing at all. He realized that he was at last tired, for the first time that night, and eagerly crawled beneath the thick covers of his blanket. Sleep never did meet him, barely after he had shut his eyes, he heard a voice calling. They had to get up - before he had even went to sleep in the first place.  
P  
"Wake up!"   
P  
Hermione groaned at the loud crack that resounded from not too far away. She   
came to the realization quite quickly though that whatever it was that had awoken her was   
important. She heard screams from the bed beside her. Blinking, Hermione turned over   
groggily to see Parvati clutching her bed sheets close to her chin. She was trembling and   
looked as if she'd seen the boogie man.   
P  
"W-what's that?" Parvati's voice quavered as she pointed one wary finger towards the   
crack of light that illuminated the doorway.  
P  
"I might care to remind you that I am not a 'that', and you have no reason to be alarmed." A   
spark of light flew from the tip of a wand, and they saw that Cybil was standing in the   
opening of the doorway. Perfectly put together. Not a stray hair fell into her eyes. Except   
of course her glasses did not stop from slipping oh so quickly down her thin nose. "Get   
dressed, and then come down to the common room. Dumbledore needs to speak with you   
over an.." She paused for an unnoticeably brief moment before continuing. "...issue. Soon."   
P  
Hermione made an effort to jump out of bed as soon as Cybil had mentioned the words,   
"get dressed". She quickly stepped into her uniform, and threw her black school robes over top the thin night dress.   
P "You're not leaving like /I are you?" Lavender narrowed her eyes at   
Hermione.  
P  
"Like what? I really don't have time to talk if you didn't notice." Hermione said with   
annoyance, overly eager to rush out of the room.  
p  
"Look in the mirror." Parvati laughed, trying though to remain serious. Hermione glanced at   
her reflection and saw that her hair was flying every which way. It had proved to become   
incredibly more frizzy while she'd been sleeping. Impossible thought it seemed. Her school robes, she noted, were inside   
out.  
P  
"No time." Hermione muttered and scooted out the door after Cybil's trailing feet. She had   
to get to Harry. She pattered down the steps from the tower making quite a racket as her   
feet made echoing thumbs against the stone. Ron and Harry were standing calmly in the   
middle of the common room. They did not however look bothered in the least. Hermione   
rushed over and exclaimed, "Harry you're not dead!"  
P  
"Good observation Hermione, but I think I kind of noticed that too." Ron said, still bitter   
over their last argument.  
P  
"No you idiot, I mean he's safe! Dumbledore does not wake up the whole school unless it's important. I thought it might have to do with you-know-who. And I was afraid Harry would be in danger." Hermione clucked her tongue, but didn't look to frown in Ron's direction.   
P  
"Why are you so worried about Harry's safety all of a sudden? He's safe, so stop   
whimpering." Ron replied in a cold voice that did not seem to belong to him.   
P  
Hermione only raised a careful eye, slightly bewildered by his words. "And I recall you saying I was different. I think you should take a careful look at yourself." Hermione   
turned away, not wanting to catch his gaze. Thankfully, Cybil, had already begun   
organizing the Gryffindors into lines. They were about to head for the great hall. Hermione   
took her place in line in front of Harry so she would not have to face Ron. They walked   
noisily down to the staircase, despite Cybil's warnings. The great hall was alive with a great   
clamor as well. Especially from the side of the Slytherins. Hermione swore she could see,   
even from the distance of the staircase, pleased smirks upon their faces.   
P  
As soon as everyone was settled Dumbledore stood before them. "There has been an - unfortunate event that has occurred tonight as we slept. And I believe it is my position to inform you of it. Leaving mystery to the mind can cause excitement and chaos. That is not what we need under our circumstances. The dark lord Voldemort has taken another life." Dumbledore looked upon the students with keen eyes. Sad they were. With a pained expression that no one could sense beneath his so calm exterior. "A fifth year, Hannah Abbott was killed. May she be remembered. That is all." He stepped down, stumbling for a short moment. Some of the Hufflepuffs stared quite rudely, but it was for his briefness and supposed lack of sympathy. It did not occur to them that he had not wanted to excite the school. But that however is exactly what happened.  
P  
Hermione turned around at the loud noise heard towards the back of the room. A student had fallen backwards out of their chair at the news. She could not make out exactly who, but she knew it was someone from the Hufflepuff table. Probably a close friend. Pink faced and breathing hard they did not stop a moment to collect themselves, and instead ran towards the door positioned at the back of the room. Professor Sprout gathered up the ends of her long robes and hurriedly plodded after him.   
P  
Lavender, who had in fact managed to make it down, was whispering loudly to Parvati. "Who /I that?" She hissed through her teeth.  
P  
"Oh, don't you know? That's Justin. He probably fancied the poor girl." Parvati replied knowingly.  
P  
Hermione's eyes stopped on them shortly, looking at the horrid expressions on their faces. She wondered how people could not stop to be judgmental and gossipy even at a time like this. She did not glare but returned to look at Ron and Harry.  
P  
"Please don't say I told you so, Hermione." Ron stared at her.  
P  
"I wasn't going to." She said softly and set her hands in her lap. "This isn't the time for it."  
P  
"D'you reckon Voldemort was after me?" Harry faced them both with wide eyes, "that he made a mistake.."  
P  
"Harry, I don't think that was a mistake. You can't begin to understand what goes on in the minds of people like that." Hermione said with assurity and a bit of fear, but went on. "It could be part of some master plan that he's slowly carrying out. It isn't your fault. None of it is." They stared at each other with solemn faces. Perhaps softened by Hermione's words, but nonetheless frightened.  
P  
The room was lit instantaneously with a bright flush of electric blue light as the ceiling flagged. There was a storm brewing as they sat, and they could hear the wind whistling heavily through the trees. The window was illuminated for a few short seconds, pausing as if to show everyone a great spectacle. The center of focus was a tall bent over willow that blew back and forth in the moonlight. Hermione could not help but stare, and neither could anyone else who had managed to catch the image. Hanging limply from the tree, floating back and forth in the night, was Hannah's small body. There were screams of disgust and horror, but no one dared to move.   
P  
That was not the only thing that had caught the student's attention. Not at all. For as soon as their terror-filled eyes began to stray, they caught sight of an acid green figure that had proceeded to light itself. It blurred, and swayed, dancing in the air, until at last a hazed image began to form itself. Before their eyes the symbol grew clear. A huge skull grinning wickedly, with a snake crawling between it, had appeared. The Dark Mark. No one screamed. They feared that who - or what - had caused this might still be around. For the light was so bright that it could have blinded. Slowly and cautiously Hermione inched toward the back of the room.   
P  
As if in response, the picture seemed to be looming ever closer at a great speed, flying at the window that out looked upon it. With a sickening crash the window shattered leaving the heavy shards to fly around the room. And the green figure swirled back into a smoky mass that filled every corner of the hall before disappearing. The glass which was traveling slowly stopped seconds before it came in contact with anything, and vanished with the retreating smoke. All eyes shifted towards the back of the room, where they saw Dumbledore. His eyes were closed, and his lips moved muttering quietly an incantation. His wand was poised in the air, seeming to hold a kind of immeasurable power. He blinked a few times before finally lowering his wand and returning to a somewhat normal stance.  
P  
Professor McGonagall rose from her seat at the back of the room. She called on the prefects to bring everything to order, and send the students back to their appropriate houses. Hermione grabbed a dazed Ron, and called out sternly as she tried to bring the students into lines. The matter did not take long, as the students were still frozen in shock at what had happened. Even Parvati had not managed to spring a word of gossip until she had reached her own dormitory.  
P  
"Good night." The whisper danced in the air ,shaky, then moved still. "Good night," Ginny echoed the soft words that had revered in her mind. She spoke to no one, looked at no one, but the gray dim shadows that hung quietly in the corners. "Please don't mind me being sad, Teddy. It's not your fault." She hugged the white bear closer to her, letting her hair drape over it's curly fur. She was careful to stifle any sighs, it really wasn't her place to be so. She was going to sleep tonight, and forget everything. There were not going to be burdens to haunt her. This once. Maybe she could lie untroubled.   
P  
Still. Beyond all her hopes to be calm, there was an insistent nagging in the back of her mind. She wanted to look at it one more time. Just once. Then she would put it away, and no harm could come of it. Only for a few seconds. It'd help her sleep. Ginny pulled the bear closer, Ino I won't/I, she thought. She wouldn't. No matter how much regret she could have held, Ginny could not keep her fingers from slipping to her neck; to the locket. It would be so short. The metal felt cool against her skin, and once more she undid the clasp, opening the little frame door.  
P  
Something was different.  
P  
She could not place what it was that was wrong. The picture was not the same..  
P  
Ginny felt her vision blur, as if her very eyes had filled with a heavy dark fog, barely anything was noticeable. Only a few sparks of sharp color would flicker now and then. Hurting. The fog began to clear, and multi-color specks flew in brilliant patterns around and around until the world was right again.   
P  
There was not at all a single thing out of place in the picture anymore. In the dark, especially, it is easy to be mistaken.   
P  
Harry held his wand steady, ready to perform the spell and as he was about to speak his wand flew from his fingers and started to roll across the floor. Right under a desk, probably, about to be crushed by a pair of shoes. Trying not to attract attention to himself Harry quickly scuttled across the room. "Lavender, could you get my wand?" Harry asked.  
P  
A rush of yellow hair hit Harry in the face, and he stared up into familiar eyes. Eyes, however, that most certainly did not belong to Lavender Brown. They had the same coloring, tone of skin. And maybe the two could be mistaken for the other at a distance. On looking closer, though, two people couldn't be anymore different. Harry's jaw dropped from it's hinges and he stared blindly,"Denia?"  
P  
The girl smiled at him, "Of course, who else would I be?" Maybe it was the lack of light in her skin? The way she seemed to be hiding under a dull curtain. Washing out all her features. The way she didn't quite seem alive.  
P  
"Umm..could you get me my wand, I kind of dropped it." He stammered slowly. He looked like such a git. Standing there, with his sweaty palms, and mumbling like a fool.  
P  
But he was terrified.  
P  
Beyond a reasonable type of fear.  
P  
"Sure." She leaned over to the side and handed Harry his wand.   
P  
"Thanks. Oh, and about what you said last night..."  
P  
"What?" She turned to stare at him. It looked almost as if she was smiling. "What, Harry?" She prompted, after, all she got was a deep stare and silent words.   
P  
"Never mind then; I guess I better go." Harry walked slowly back to his seat. He cocked his head around once to see if she was still sitting there. "Ron!" Harry called in a loud whisper, "Ron come 'ere!"  
P  
"What?" Ron looked up from the mess that was supposed to be a candle.  
P  
"See that girl over there?" Harry pointed over in the other direction.  
P  
"Which one, Harry? There are lots of 'em." Ron spoke in confusion, and a tinge of sarcasm.  
P  
"Third seat from the left in the fourth row. The blonde one." Harry said automatically, his eyes fixed intently on that very spot.  
P  
"Hmmmm." Ron scanned the room, moving his eyes in the direction Harry mentioned. "Oh. That's Lavender. So? What's the big deal?"  
P  
"No, she's not Lavender! Can't you see?" Harry cried out angrily, this was the only way to prove to himself that he had not imagined her. If only Ron could see her too. She was right there. Right there. Before their eyes.  
P  
"See what?" He replied, perplexed.   
P  
"Argh! Come on." Harry took his hand and dragged him back over to Denia's desk. "Right there! See?!" Once Harry said it she got up and headed towards the door. He bolted over toward her dragging a complaining Ron.  
P  
"Harry what's wrong with you? What are you chasing Lavender for? I thought you liked Cho.."  
P  
"Nothing's wrong. And shut up. I don't like her." He muttered as he concentrated on tracing the familiar figure through the crowd of students who had gathered in the hallway. Why were there so many people out here when they were supposed to be in class? He spotted a familiar head among the throngs of people, which pushed him further. Ron, meanwhile, was complaining nosily as he was being jerked and pulled about every which way. It was by all means not seeming pleasant at all. "Would you be quiet?" Harry chided at him, with frustration, while pushing through more and more people. Where in the world was she headed to?  
P  
"We're going to miss all of transfiguration if we keep going, you know." Ron managed to gasp.  
P  
"When, all of a sudden, did you decided to take after Hermione?" Harry growled back. This was no time for an argument.  
P  
"When you decided to go mad, that's when."  
P  
"I'm not mad." He replied, but didn't really know whether he believed himself or not. "There she is!!! She's right there." She was right about to turn into a room, when Harry nearly flew across the room. Within a fraction of a second he had her by the arm, and was grinning all over the place. "Why...were...you...running...away?" He replied, panting, and he feared that he had sweat pouring down his face.  
P  
The blonde head turned around, but it was not quite who he had expected it to be. "What are you talking about, Harry?" Lavender replied, looking rather suspicious.  
P  
"Oh. It's only you after all." Harry muttered, trying not to show his great annoyance.  
P  
"For someone who was following me not more than a few seconds ago, you really don't look happy to see me." Lavender sneered, then turned around airily with her nose pointed in the air.  
P  
"Wasn't I right then, Harry?" Ron said after she had left.  
P  
"Yeah you were. I didn't know it, but I s'pose you must be right. I really am mad, aren't I?"  
P  
"Might I ask where you two scurried off to so suddenly?"  
P  
McGonagall had only a fierce glare visible when Harry and Ron tried re-entering the classroom, trying to be quiet so no one would notice. They were without a doubt unsuccessful.  
P  
"Harry, an explanation would be preffered."  
/I was watching. Everyone.  
P  
He was looking at his feet, at Ron, trying to think...he couldn't very well say why he had really run off. How would that look? "Umm, err....Ron?"  
P  
"We were..."  
P  
Hermione stared at him.  
P  
She looked like she might start laughing at them.  
P  
"Ron, and I..."  
P  
"I had to go, Professor. It was an emergency. I'm sorry, but I couldn't hold it. I dragged Harry with me."  
P  
That's exactly what Hermione did, and everyone else, as well. McGonagall's face turned a peculiar shade of crimson, even picking up on the edge of her ears. Though, she wasn't nearly as red as Ron was, that moment. No soul could have dreamed of touching at /I color.  
P  
"I...see," was what she managed to choke out, trying to remain contained.  
P  
"Ginny would you care to read your report aloud? You strike me as being ever so eager this morning. Tell us, what topic did you choose to do your final term paper on? Hmmmm." Professor Binns had surprisingly chosen this moment to actually pay attention to what his students were doing. Ginny had also cleverly been drifting off, this was not new behavior to his class really. But it seemed that he wanted finally to take action, or more likely Snape had befriended a new colleague.   
P  
"What? Oh, yes, Professor I've got my paper." Ginny drowsily knocked down her quill while she fumbled around her desk to look for her rolls of parchment. "Here it is!" She called out finally, triumphant with her report grasped in her fingers.   
P  
"Well, would you please read it? It would be preferable for you to stand up, and face the class at the front of the room."  
P  
"Umm...alright then." Ginny stepped up slowly trying to delay, as long as possible, reaching the front of them room. She hated public confrontation. It was one of the other things that made her stomach churn uneasily. "I - I...errrmmmm," she looked at her feet and stuttered helplessly.  
P  
"What was your topic?"  
P  
"My topic was, why dark wizards choose to take that path and what drives them, sir."  
P  
"Interesting. Please elaborate for us."  
P  
"Y-you all know of Grindelwald, of Voldemort," Ginny began quietly. Even the soft whisper of the last word sent students on edge. She had grabbed her audience's attention, by only the very mention of a name, if not scared them.  
P   
"Well, one day they were like you and me. They were once nothing but normal wizards. And maybe it wasn't meant for them to fall into such dark ways, but it's what they chose for themselves. I think that there must be a reason for this, maybe it's not the same for every person. There is something we call want. It drives us to do things we might not ever consider otherwise. It's a part of life - it's what you can decide to spend your life searching for. Still what would it sound like to you if a convict from Azkaban said, 'you can't blame me, it was want that did it'? Foolish. We all suffer from afflictions of this sort. What exactly the thing is you want needs to be taken into consideration. But it is blinding, the pain never takes leave of you. Constantly. You find it driving beneath you, into your soul, ready to destroy anything that is left if it is not fulfilled. This passion for something that will never be, except for when you wish it. It is enough, enough believe me, to want to destroy whatever may stand in your way. To want to kill, and hate, and be hated. And you can end up hating what you wanted, so deeply, and devastatingly, in the first place." Ginny had not paused, or stopped, to even take a breath. She felt as if she could not stand anymore, because she had described herself. Exactly. And to the point. Her breathing became ragged. It had taken a great exertion. She didn't want to look out to the people that stood before her.  
P  
Ginny didn't know what to do, she stood looking at her feet, not wanting to continue. The stares, she could sense, would be changing soon from fright to shock. What had she done? "Professor, I think I - " The room reeled, and she was nearly thrown from her feet. The windows, faces, and even the dusty textbooks lurched and spun. She tried to throw out a hand, to perhaps steady herself, but it was too late. Already, she felt that she was falling.  
P 


	4. Something of a Warning

P  
Hundreds of bottles filled with potions and ailments, of all sorts, spanned the enormous shelves running down the walls of the white room. A few metallic looking instruments were placed atop Madame Pomfrey's, the nurse's, desk. Next to it stood a tall filing cabinet, most likely it contained folders with the descriptions of all the students attending Hogwarts. Harry Potter's file, as well as Neville Longbottom's, was particularly full. A corner of it stuck out oddly beneath one of the cabinet doors. A poster, which had been tacked to one of the few empty spaces on the walls, displayed a grinning witch holding up a glass of milk. As far as doctors and nurses went, taste did not seem to vary quite so much between the wizarding and muggle worlds.   
P  
One bed in the room was full and not a single other. In it lay a thin red-headed figure.  
P  
There was a thick hazy aura about the place that began to shake as small tremors echoed beneath the floorboards. The room looked to have been filled up with a great bit of water, for the waves that took rise in the air were thick and white with foam. It tossed violently, seeming to follow every one of Ginny's turns. Her breathing became heavy. Looks of pain were visible under her closed eyes. The vials on the shelves teetered dangerously on edge. Every second it seemed one more breath would finally put them off.   
P  
Send them to the edge.  
P  
There was something talking to her. Their words could barely be heard beneath the fog. /I. The only word she could possibly understand and it echoed softly, then louder, flying across with the colors.   
P  
"On the eve of three moons"  
P  
Smudged colors of wine, amber, and darker shades began to spill forth into view behind her eyes.   
P  
"When the sun dare not shine"  
P  
They twisted and flew, fleeting, as the mist, the sea, began to throw itself.   
P  
"Where all blood will run cold"   
P  
Ginny was shaking uncontrollably and her head lolled over to the side.   
P  
"There the end shall fall"  
P  
Out of the darkness bore a great light.   
P  
"And the beginning shall rise  
BR  
The beginning of a new  
BR  
If Order is to be restored  
P  
She must take the chosen one"  
P  
The chanting slowed until they came to a deafening stop. Rushing far away taking the violent sea, that had taken its root in the room, with them. It was then that Ginny began to stir, and feel the weight taken away from her mind. She awoke, blinking, with only a mere recollection of what had happened. But the memory of the classroom still stood prominently in her thoughts. That sort of thing could not be forgotten. What had happened exactly that caused her to end up here; she had been overtaken with a nauseous dizzy feeling. And after that, nothing, only faint blurry pictures. That wasn't much basis for anything.   
P  
How helpful is it, to be warned, when you are not even fully aware?  
P  
A piece of paper, slightly crumpled, seemed newly to be placed beside her. Tentatively, Ginny reached a shaky hand towards it. Pulling away from the creases, that further distorted the smudged inky letters, she scanned the words carefully. The very first sentence stood out extremely - its very words looked to be in bold. Not as much dealt to the weight of the pen as to the meaning they held.  
II don't know who I am anymore.P  
She shuddered quietly, afraid to read more, to find an attachment. This of course made it all the more enticing, and the words hit a chord that sounded familiar. Familiar in a way she could not explain.  
I  
The way I see the world is sick. I have to forever live behind the facade of jealousy and want. Greed of what others have. Desire of everything. All of it is due to my twisted ideas of supremacy, wanting to be better. Wanting to be the very best of those around me. I make up lies to hide it; my bitter secret is safe for now. It's why no one really knows me, they may think it, but it's not true. I want something that I know I can never have, this body holds nothing great, yet I perceive it to in a strange display of hidden vanity. For something that isn't really there.  
P  
Another thing is growing inside me amongst all else. Hate. A strong powerful hate of who I am, and where I come from. For those people who have forsaken me. Even for those people who claim to love me. It is terrible, but I cannot fight it off.   
P  
Was it always true? I ask myself this every day, now. Yes, I think I just did not know it - or did not want to know it. I have been hiding a part of my own self from me for so long. I wish it had been longer.  
P  
The way I see the world is sad. I will never know it the way others do.  
P  
Only, please, let someone help me.  
P  
There was a dash, and what must have been a signature. It was nothing but an indistinguishable curly scrawl. Yet another mystery. She folded the paper carefully, into a small square, and tucked it away into her nightgown.  
BR  
"Ginny, Ginny? Are you awake?" She heard a rustling of footsteps not far away, and short muted voices. Someone was sitting beside her, shaking her gently.  
P  
"Yes, I'm awake." She replied drowsily and pulled herself up to a sitting position. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were standing around her bed with worried expressions on their faces. She could see Fred and George not far in back of them; they didn't look to be their usual cheery selves.   
P  
"We had to beg Madame Pomfrey to let us in, and she doesn't even know about Hermione and Harry. She would have near killed us if we'd told her." Ron spoke out with a bit of a chuckle.  
P  
"What happened?" Hermione burst out, and then proceeded to turn bright. "I mean. I'm sorry, I was wondering. We heard about it right after, but it didn't make any sense at all."  
P  
"N-nothing. I don't know what came over me. I was tired I guess." Ginny replied wearily. She'd forgotten all the questions that were bound to rise from this, and now they were hitting actuality.  
P  
"Really? That's what you said the other night, right before it happened." Hermione could not conceal a suspicious look that briefly came into view. And her temperament changed, "I hope you're alright. Maybe it's some kind of illness. I'll ask Madam Pomfrey about it. I'm glad you're alright."   
P  
Ginny smiled, relieved, and then stopped to ask. "Could I ask you one thing, what day is it?" She had completely lost track of time, who knew how long she'd been asleep. She waited nervously hoping not to discover that in fact she'd been in some kind of months-long coma.   
P  
"Oh!" Hermione laughed, "It's only the second, Ginny, you don't have to worry."  
P  
"Good."   
P  
"You're really alright then?" Ron asked.  
P  
"I'm fine, Ron, you guys can go." Ginny replied, trying to appear earnest.  
P  
"Sure?" Fred and George piped up from the back of them room.   
P  
"Yeah, sure." She nodded.  
P  
"Well, then, we really should be going to class." Hermione got up readily. "Madame Pomfrey might barge in any second now -"  
P  
"Who knows how long those sleeping draughts last.." Fred shot out.  
P  
"Fred, you didn't? Honestly, that could get us in so much trouble with - " Hermione looked blatantly shocked, maybe she had forgotten that, after all, she was talking to Fred Weasley. Ginny had to stop herself from smiling, when she noticed that Fred had his fingers crossed...very visibly...behind his back. And something seemed to be very wrong with his left eye, which appeared to be ever so lazy. It kept batting.   
P  
"Remember, Hermione, you weren't even /I. How would they pin the work on you?" George pointed out. Hermione, still, apparently did not notice that George had something wrong with his eye as well. For a person who was so brilliant, she was frightfully gullible at times.  
P  
"Oh, alright then, but I still disapprove. You shouldn't go around doing things like that." Hermione began, looking right about ready to start on a lecture.  
P  
"Come on Hermione, like they said, we're not even supposed to be here." Harry replied.  
P  
"Right, then." She nodded and stepped towards the door. "See you, Ginny!"  
P  
"Yeah, bye!"   
P  
And Ginny watched, with wave after wave, they each stepped out the door. Leaving her alone once more. IIt's why no one really knows me, they may think it, but it's not true.I  
There's a little magic that lies in everyone, not the kind of magic that makes things fly or change, but the kind of magic that lies in the tips of our fingers, and the sparkles in our eyes. They say there is even magic left that lies deep down in the hearts of the cold ones, that no matter what they do it will never leave them. It only has to be revived.   
P  
A rich bubbling champagne was spilling over the tree tops, and even making it's way down to lie beneath the crevices of the rocks. The creatures that dwelled in shadow were retreating, deep down back into holes in the ground, or hollows in the trees. They were not to be seen in daylight. It was one of the laws that still lay to be unwritten. The beams of light were reflected in the pools of water, and bounced from the glares it left.  
P  
He winced painfully as a harsh path of light hit him in the eye, and quickly brought his hands to shield himself before turning away from it. There were creatures of the shadow who were more sensitive than others. It was not that the light could kill them, or had any real physical effect, but there was something laying about it that made them fear it.   
P  
The light was slowly filling up every corner of the entrance. Still turned away, he rose to walk. Walk into the darkness. Heavy droplets slid down from the high arches above, leaving their wet stains on the rocks, and forming puddles at his feet. He walked on, unmoved, passing beneath bows and turning into corners. Always moving farther into the dark. The many pathways would have blurred, and stood to confuse the greatest minds. But, somehow, he knew exactly where to go - where to step. He didn't need to see to know where he was going. With one final step he stood before a solid wall of deep colored stone. There were no marks and scratches to ebb it's surface, and was smooth to the touch. He needed only to raise one hand, and no longer was there stone before him. There were now four distinct shadows.  
P  
"Where have you been?" One of the shadows stepped forward. While it was dark, yes, there were certain parts where only the deepest of shadows could lie. "We have been waiting many hours, and /I hours have passed. It is easier to work when you do not have to worry about being seen."  
P  
He replied, with a coldness, "Silence. What matter is it of yours? Tell me, when did you choose to put into practice your feelings of free will?"  
P  
"Oh, master, I shall do what I please when I please. I could leave this very moment if I chose to do so. Do not be foolish. But I will aid you, for now. That will not be a worry to you yet." She had almost the stark, explanatory tone as if she spoke to a child. Amused. But all the more serious.  
P  
"I don't believe I asked to be mocked." He snapped back in irritation. "You others, why don't you speak?"  
P  
"I am listening, sir." The smallest of the three still seemed to uphold her stature of obedience. It could never have been fear that was the cause.  
P  
"As am I." Was the last echo, from the third, who leaned lazily against a large boulder.  
P  
"Very well." He spoke, as he crossed the room, and sat down to rest a moment. He would have liked to continue standing, it have him a feeling of importance when other were forced to look up at you. All the regality of a great ruler, and a mind to match it, but lacking a sense of ration - was a description that suited him. He was great. It only depended on how you valued greatness, and whether you valued good.  
P  
"What is it that you want of us? What have you come to ask?" The first one spoke again. She crossed her arms as she did so, tilting one hooded head to the side.  
P  
"Show me. What will come." He prompted, almost hungrily. "Show me how I can win."  
P  
"As you wish." Was her reply.  
P  
Without any beckoning the small one backed towards the end of the room, and lifted a huge, gleaming, silver basin. A person of her make, and especially her meekness, if it could be valued, did not look to be able to carry such a thing. But she crossed the room, and did not falter a step even once.  
P  
The other two walked over to her side as she set the basin down to rest on the ground. Instantly it was swallowed down, the silver appearing to melt and mold into it's surroundings. It left only a small pool at the floor of the room, filled with a flowing spectrum of brightness that did not cease spinning. One of the fates brought her hands down inside of it. When she pulled them out she cradled an item carefully in her cupped hands. Her every movement and face only suggested that there was power she was holding. The kind of power that many sought their lives for.  
P  
He did not speak, but if those lips could smile it was all they were doing. Delighted by it all.  
P  
The small one took the power into her hands. It was a single spinning eye the size of an orb. The traces of spectrum shed from the iris and left a circle of deep purple. Flecked within were violets, lavenders, pale blues, all the colors could be seen alone. Together, however, they shone with a different, wholly single light. "Tell us how the world will end. What must happen?" She told it softly, staring at it's only pupil, deeply.  
P  
The eye shot away, flying, until it hung high above their heads. Out shot crafted shards of light, alive with color. They refracted and multiplied until another world was forming itself in the air.  
P  
Scarlet rivers of blood flew from the hands of one. Gunshots. The sound of death. The very image of it. Forests, mountains, castles, down to ordinary houses were speeding by at breakneck courses.  
P  
And the world was almost focusing. Faces. So shocked and tearstained, angered. In a circle the light danced on all. One would have wanted to reach out a hand to catch a tear. It was so real, you felt you could - touch them, that is.  
P  
Where were they? Amongst a beautiful backdrop. Water trickled, spurted, and lapped merrily from a fall. Flowers bloomed in all sorts that one could imagine. It was strange to see all this. Such beauty could not please the faces they saw. It was wasted. And truly hateful.  
P  
Unlike the faces, unlike the tears, it was to say the least unreal.  
P  
Crying. Someone was crying. A girl.  
P  
"No, no! It can't, you won't...you never said that! He can't die. He can't die." She was screaming and pounding her hands on the ground until red rivers poured down them.  
P  
"Please, take me, instead. God, take me!"  
P  
The vision shook, and the light bounced shrinking as it did so. It all folded back down into one thing, the eye, which now rested in her small hands. Quietly, with no hesitation, it was placed back into the pool and the basin placed back into the darkest of shadows.  
P  
"Only one life can stop it." Was what he heard.  
P  
"Who?" He questioned, but found no answer. "Who?!"  
P  
"We do not know." Said the outspoken.  
P  
"What do you mean to tell me? You don't know? You!" He spat his last word and then laughed. "How can YOU not know? Hah! Knowing is what you are!" The laugh came again. Were their words a charade? Absurd! His hands nearly shook as he spoke. As he yelled.  
P  
The three were still as calm as possibly could be. Watching him like he was a madman.  
P  
"We are not knowledge." Spoke the P  
"We have never told you that to be so." Spoke the P  
"Everything, is not for us to know. It is not for anyone. If one knew everything they would only be a danger to them. Only one cannot bear the weight of it upon their own shoulders. It would smother them." Spoke the P  
They stood waiting for his rage to hide. Only hide, never leave. The rage never left. This was his burden - to hold forever.  
P  
"How often this mistake is made, I cannot count. But it is so very much the same. Dreamers, people driven by a desire seek us. They seek to know what this world may hold for them."  
P  
"Some ask if they'll be apart of the lucky sort; they wonder if they will be happy-" She was interpreted harshly by him.  
P  
"It is not a question of happiness I ask. I only want an answer."  
P  
She chortled lightly. "That is what I am trying to tell you. It's not our place to answer, we will help when we play at the chance. And only then. Each person truly spins their own thread."  
P  
"Our powers have limits, we can only go so far." Came a quiet whisper.  
P  
"Each person leads their own life, and only they can really ever know. The future shows itself in shades, always hiding from you, and that is because you decide it." She held out her hand, strangely, to maybe stroke his cheek but drew it back slowly until the motion was barely noticed. "The greatest beauty is that of the mysterious. To tell you would kill it." She whispered. "Find it for yourself, that is the right way to know."  
P  
The redness that held in his eyes could not become sympathetic. But if watched, closely, they might have softened for a short moment. Barely a hairs breath. If there was a change in him, it did not show itself. Ever sooner the fury was burning again. His passionate ways could not be forgotten. "I ask you this.." he began, "for me to succeed I must first have one thing. Bring myself back, give me my hands, give me my face."  
P  
"That is one thing I can do," the third one spoke out, "your hand?"  
P  
Solemnly he obeyed, and placed his right hand in hers.   
P  
"This will not hurt you, but be aware." She set her other hand over his latching their fingers together and closed her eyes, concentrating, as she held him tightly.  
P  
Sharp bursts of energy deflected from their grip, the skin welded upon his bones almost melting until it began to change. Forming into something else. He winced, there was no pain, but he did so all the same. The surging of energy continued to flow until he felt he would nearly fall out from where he was sitting. When he opened his eyes, they were a deep silver with black locks of hair falling into them. If only there was not so much hate behind that handsome face. Tom Marvalo Riddle would have stood there. But he was dead, a thing of the past. His body was there, clear as day. The two were different, in so many ways.   
P  
He was Lord Voldemort.  
P  
Draco did not bother to stifle his yawn, and stretched luxuriously as he leaned back into his chair, his arms folded across his chest. It was expected, that, no sooner he would put his feet up to rest on the table and start snapping orders to the prefects who sat around him.   
P  
"Am I boring you all? I would hope not to put it that I have no control over these meetings." Cybil addressed the room, while still keeping her eyes harrowing down on Draco. "I think that we should, now, be getting to work. I also think I'm correct in saying these meetings are meant to serve a purpose, whether any of you happen to acknowledge the fact." Her eyes had become so thin, at this point, it would be an outright exaggeration to call them slitty. "Well then," she started with an air, "I suppose we should discuss the matter of textbooks." She pulled out a rather frighten immense stack of parchment, that hid her face from view, and began to shuffle at a high speed. Her fingers flew in every direction until she came upon the particular paper she had been searching for. With a flourish, she replaced the immense stack to wherever she had picked it up from - it had seemed to pop up in their midst's. "Ah, here it is." She said, reassuring herself of her unique abilities at organization. She knew where every inkling of an object lay in that room, and was very proud of the fact. "According to the opinions of randomly selected students.."  
P  
"Who exactly do they 'randomly select'? I've never been selected, that's for sure," a sixth year Slytherin mumbled, and turned to face Cybil with a bright smile before her gaze had even bothered to drift that way.   
P  
It was barely audible, but a few students swore they had heard her say, "Certainly cheery for a Slytherin aren't we?"  
P  
"...they suggest we.." she continued.  
P  
"No." Hermione had scooted out of her seat abruptly making a very loud, not to mention squeaky, scratching across the floor. It sounded much like Snape trying to sing while suffering from a severe head cold. He was known to do that every once and awhile.  
P  
"Excuse me?" Cybil, looking rather flushed and indignant, raised a cautious stare. "Did I hear you say 'no' now? I do not remember my asking for another opinion. In fact, did I even ask a question? Tell me, Miss Granger, what are you trying to say? I am sorry, and I give my deepest apologies, but I am in the dark as to what you are hitting at." She set her papers down, and set her hands to rest, giving Hermione a dangerous looking grin.   
P  
"Has Granger gone bloody mad?" Draco sneered, under his breath. Pansy nearly laughed out loud, and had to keep her eyes on the ground biting her lip, tittering softly. She clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound.   
P  
"Please continue, I would like to hear what you have to say." Cybil prompted, the menace in her voice rising every second. Bookish people, who had little to no free time on their hands, had to get their pleasure somehow. Percy had been known to break into an evil mode every once and awhile. It was why he appeared so incredibly prim and proper. No one could be /I way all the time. "Miss Parkinson, are you about to be sick?" She snarked at the shaking little hands peeking out from the blonde hair that had fallen in Pansy's face.  
P  
"No mam," and then she coughed loudly. "Recovering from a bit of the flu actually, but I'm perfectly fine now. Thank you for asking."  
P  
With the matter nipped in the bud, the students shifted their eyes to the other side of the table, where someone was still standing.  
P  
Hermione had not shifted in the least, she stood her position, looking determined. It appeared that she had been anchored there, her toes digging deep into the floor, until whatever point she wanted to make was made. A bright red had been rising from her neck into her cheeks, and furthered onto her lips. She looked, to put it simply, quite scary, not at all how she normally did. It was one of those moments when a person shows one of their rare sides. And for Hermione, it was rare, yes. She was a person to take light upon the moment. "I said no." She repeated, "What do textbooks have to do with anything?" Her words were nearly screamed, reaching a sharply higher note at the last syllable. Draco happened to find this quite the single most amusing thing he'd ever heard.  
P  
Cybil, though, watched intrigued and did not choose to speak.  
P  
"Are we going to sit here and watch while people die? And you can't say you don't know, because you do! Everyone saw, we see it all the time now, what else is going to come? Ok, let's forget it ever happened and jolly well talk about nonsense!"  
P  
"Then you propose we do something about it? How can we? You need only have spoken it, I am not deaf. Yet. If things continue as they are I may well be." Cybil had a bitter expression, but the approval could no less be sensed.  
P  
"Who knows what we can do if we don't try?" Hermione spoke at last, and then stood silent, not wanting or knowing anything else to say.  
P  
Seamlessly a rustling noise was growing louder. Fae Lockwood took it upon herself to stand up. The room of the brains, witty, reserved, and some uptight had taken it upon themselves to give her a standing ovation. Even Draco Malfoy's hands could be seen clapping. Whether or not in spite, it was still a noticeable effort on his part. And with that single motion, all was accepted. All was right. In what deemed itself nearly half an instant.   
P  
"So, are we actually going to attempt to accomplish something of value?" Spoke a haughty looking seventh year.   
P  
"I believe we may." Cybil replied observing the exuberance that radiated from nearly every prefect. "We are only needing somewhere to start.."  
P  
"The library, of course." Hermione chirruped.  
P  
"Well then, we're off to the library!" Cybil scooted out of her seat and nearly stopped herself from throwing a fist in the air, and making some kind of hooting noise. That was a tad bit much on the eccentric side. She wasn't a regular Mary Poppins, with all the jumping and hurrahing.   
P  
"That was fast, I thought only my friend had mood swings like that - " Ron said in a daze, but was whipped up from the spot by Hermione.  
P  
It was a strange sight, the whole group of prefects traipsing down the hallways, towards the library of all places. Well, it was expected they'd go to someplace like the library, as many of them were Percy-like in disposition. But still, heads turned as other students made their way to their particular classes that afternoon.  
P  
One girl, in particular, snatched an on looking girl's pair of glasses set them on her nose as best she could and tried to blend into the crowd. She thought sticking her nose up in the air would help her pull it off. And she set off a whole lot of others, who just as soon were stepping, in tune to the march of footsteps - all oddly compelled to follow the prefects wherever they might be walking to. As the group walked on, putting on quite a show, the lines of students grew longer and longer. Nobody quite knew, if it all was in pursuit of Draco Malfoy, or was there some other reason to the sudden crowd that followed. One thing could be said, you never saw that many people parading down the halls, or that many people late for class. The tapping heels, and tongue-clucks of professors seemed to echo one after another. Slowly, the students broke away, the spell lifted. One by one they all hurried back to their classes, forgetting completely why in the world they'd wanted to follow the steps of the prefects in the first place.  
P  
Ginny, in a very miraculous act, had managed to convince Madame Pomfrey into letting her leave early that day. She had to put on the biggest of smiles, saying that she was indeed perfectly alright, even if she was not completely sure about the fact. The thought of returning back to class wasn't very appealing. So, she had instead decided to spend the afternoon huddled in the library. Professor Flitwick had not been expecting her back to class today anyway. She assumed she'd be able to pull it off.   
P  
Barely five minutes had passed before she heard a very loud, and long, tirade of footsteps coming her way. It wasn't really her fancy to be dealing with a crowd of people, and she hadn't remembered any classes scheduled in the library today. Well, she'd have to deal with it. Best to make herself inconspicuous.   
P  
When she was about to settle in an armchair by the window, the steps boomed crystal clear. And she was almost sure she could hear a familiar voice. Panicking, for no exact reason, she ducked behind the closest bookcase, barely daring to breathe. "Why in the world am I hiding?" She muttered to herself, shaking her head, but her feet hadn't moved yet. They were still noticeably behind the book shelf. And she almost stepped right back out, until the voices became so loud, and a particular head passed by. Even from squinting through the slim spaces between the books, she could not mistake who'd she'd seen. It must have been a prefect meeting, Hermione had passed by after all. Guess who else was a prefect? Draco. Why hadn't she thought of that before?  
P  
"Umm, pardon me, but.."  
P  
Ginny nearly jumped out of her shoes, and quickly swung around. She must have looked rather suspicious, gluing herself to the bookcase and muttering. "Draco?" She winced slightly at the name, sounding rather stupid.   
P  
"What?" Colin scratched his head strangely, and narrowed his eyes, "What are you talking about Ginny? It's me, Colin. The annoying Colin. The one who talks about Harry. Not Draco. H-A-R-R-Y. Haven't I been doing that for the past, what is it, four years now? I didn't even know I was a blonde..."  
P  
"What are you doing here?" She hissed, in surprise to herself.  
P  
"I think I was going to check out a book, see I got a pass from Professor Flitwick," he reached down in his pockets.  
P  
"No, no, it's ok. Leave it. You shouldn't frighten people like that."  
P  
"Oh. Then what were you saying about Draco?.."  
P  
"Huh?" Ginny tried her best to look confused, "Colin, what? Why in the world would I even mention D-, that name, unless it was a curse. It must have been a memory lapse, because I don't remember saying that."   
P  
"If you say so...aren't you supposed to be in the clinic, anyway? Maybe that's why you're acting all loony." Ginny paled several shades. "I absolutely have to tell you the latest thing I found out about Harry. I was wondering whether he wears boxers or briefs, and..."  
P  
"Yes, Ginny?"  
P  
"I think you're taking this whole /I a bit too far," Glad to change the subject, she placed her hands on his shoulders and steered him in the opposite direction. "How many years has it been? Four. And how many years have you been at Hogwarts? Four. You said it yourself. I think it's time you found someone else, or have a bit of me time. This obsession, it's all you think about. Besides, I think Harry already likes someone. A girl, too." She hurried on.  
P  
"He does?" But it sounded more like a disappointed eep from his side.   
P  
"Yeah, he does." Ginny nodded, and hung her head sadly. "Maybe it's for the best." She said with a sympathetic smile, and patted him on the shoulder.  
P  
"Ohh, but now I have another plan." Colin nearly perked up immediately, "I'm sorry Ginny but I have to go, I have webs to weave." He was nearly spinning circles, and skipping backwards, with a disturbing glint in his eyes. "Good luck with that memory problem!" He yelled, a little too loudly, and scooted his way out of the library. Madame Pince glared at him, but he skipped out too quickly for her to say anything.   
P  
Ginny leaned back against the dusty shelves, almost laughing. "I really shouldn't do things like that. Who knows what kind of harm I've inflicted upon society..."  
P  
"What is the cause of this disturbance?" Madame Pince had caught sight, no doubt, of Ginny's bright hair and plodded over. She was speaking in a low voice, but it made no difference, it could easily have been a piercing scream.   
P  
Ginny's eyes shot up in fear, and her laughter was immediately cut of. "I well, I. He - Colin, he was...we were..."  
P  
"Why were you laughing child? What exactly were you doing? But I am clear on the fact that you have broken rule number one-hundred-thirteen, three-hundred-five, seventeen, thirty-four, shall I continue? You are not to laugh, cough, jump, squeal, talk in any voice above a whisper, bend back the spines of books, engage in any sort of inappropriate touching, make unintelligent remarks, shuffle your feet, bite your finger nails.."  
P  
"Um, miss, exactly what are the rules I broke? I'm quite sure I didn't do all of those things."  
P  
"Never interrupt! That is another rule! And one I hope you shall care to follow." She bellowed, and her beaky nose filled with color. "You should know what rules you broke. Now, are you going to look at any books?"  
P  
"Yes, mam, I am going to look at some books. I'm sorry."  
P  
"Very good. You should be, now, be quiet this time." She wagged a finger at her, and plodded back to her perch.   
P  
Ginny almost gave a sigh of relief, but quickly stopped herself before Madam Pince would turn her beaky nose right back around. She had not been having the best experiences with the Hogwarts' staff this year. Everyone seemed so overly touchy. Well she better find something to read, before she came stalking back her way.   
P  
When she'd ducked to avoid seeing Draco, she'd managed to find herself in the fortune telling and palmistry section. What she'd been trying to avoid that year. Ron had warned her since her third year that she should never ever ever take palmistry. Hermione and Harry had similar opinions. Professor Trelawney was supposedly full of a load of rubbish. Lavender and Parvati didn't think so, but she didn't exactly trust /I opinion. Especially now. Besides, she didn't very well have anywhere else to go. Randomly her hand grabbed a book, and she sat down to rest in a nearby armchair.   
P  
Eurgh. Ginny spluttered loudly, and had to grab the sides of the chair to pull herself up. It was obvious she'd not been in the library very often. A sign, which she'd ignored, read BThe All New Xtreme Armchair/B - Specifically designed for those with various back problems. Approach with caution. There are naturally state of the art Xtreme softening charms in use, but we are still in testing mode. Please kindly sit in another chair./I Still struggling, she managed to stand up out of the sinking mess of material, and this time checked to see if there were any more signs, before finding a new seat.  
P  
It wasn't until then that she had gotten her first good look at the book, she hadn't really thought about what she'd picked up, but now she was going to be stuck reading it. Or at least pretending to read it.   
UDiscover Your Future/U by Areanelle Perk   
P  
The publication date was 1900, well, it could be a history lesson at most then. While the book was old, not many had paused to flip through it's pages. A large storm of dust clouded her vision, it was hard not to cough. Ginny had to try and swallow down the persistent itching that was creeping up her throat, and made a squeaky gulp in its place. After brushing yet another layer of thick dust from the pages, she began to flip through until she came to a page where a corner had been folded down. There was a noted jotted down in the margin. So she wasn't the only one to have picked up this book then.   
P  
The writing was indecipherable, so she scanned the page to try and discover what the person might have found to their interest. There was a largely elaborate picture, of three young girls, who somehow looked oddly familiar to her. They were all quite pretty, however that was not what struck her. The face. She had seen it before.  
P  
Moirae - The Fates  
BR  
Well known throughout Greek Mythology. The three mysterious sisters, who control the lives of all men. There are those who believe that they really do exist, while others hold them as merely another fairy tale of the past. The believers are known to wander to the ends of the earth, searching for them. Who has ever found them?  
IThe thread of life was spun by Clotho, by use of her enchanted spindle. Day and night she would sit, spinning, and deciding what would happen next to who's life she held. Beneath her fingers. She ruled over all things that are. IThe greatest power of the three, lies in the oldest, Atropos. Feared among all. It was her choice as to when a human's life would end. With a snip of her whim the light may have never touched your eyes again. The Inevitable. /I The words were printed beneath the picture of a small girl. Her eyes could barely be seen, for they were focused on the floor. She would fidget every once and while, and draw her arms close around her, but she would never look up.  
ICruel, blood thirsty, did they disturb the world's balance to spite? Could everything that you knew lie in the hands of silly little children who have no pangs of guilt whilst they toy with emotions. They were feared, more than they could ever know. There was another theory, for the world to be in place, could they truly be so hateful. And did the world really lie in their will. Maybe...P  
"I'd reserved that book if you hadn't noticed. See it's got a yellow tab at the front there. That means you can't take it out unless you've got permission." A snotty voice filled her ears, it wasn't long before she was always interrupted by whatnot.  
P  
Ginny had snapped the book closed quickly at the sound of words, as if she had been sneaking a peak at a friends diary. Guilt was developing in her stomach, yet there was a foreboding feeling for her to keep the book. "Oh, I didn't see. I wasn't really reading it anyhow, you can have it back - here." She held out the book and her wits were about at breaking point. This really would be a good time to let out a long deep sigh. And then scream, rip out chunks of hair, and have a good cry. What didn't she do wrong?   
P  
"What's wrong with /I?" The girl sneered, rudely, she'd glimpsed the pained-off the-edge look on Ginny's face. Much like a prison mate at Azkaban about to crack. She'd said exactly what she should not have.  
P  
Doesn't everyone seem to want to know that, now!, she thought to herself. But she forced a somewhat pleasant looking face. "Are you a Slytherin?"   
P  
"Yes, isn't that obvious? Not much of a question." She finally stopped to take the book from Ginny, and to her great displeasure, took the seat across from her. "I'm Denia, by the way. A fifth year. And you are..?"  
P  
"Ginny Weasley...I'm in.."  
P  
"Fourth year, I know."  
P  
"Oh." It wasn't /I strange, was it? She decided not to ask any questions.   
P  
"Hey." Blaise acknowledged, when she saw Draco's shadow passing over her gaze. He didn't reply, but gave a slight nod of his head. It looked odd, and Blaise burst out into a loud guffaw.   
P  
"What are you laughing at?" Draco spoke while raising an eyebrow.  
P  
"You." She sputtered.  
P  
"Oh? Really, that certainly helps. So I guess you're going to talk to me today."  
P  
"I'm not going to attack you with sarcasm if that's what you mean," Blaise smiled evilly. "Well, maybe I will...but I won't hit you with a book at least."  
P  
"Ah, now don't I feel safe."  
P  
"If I'm not going to be /I sarcastic, you have to too. It's not fair."  
P  
"I can't help it."  
P  
"I'm more cynical than you are, anyway, so it's harder for me."  
P  
"No you're not."  
P  
"Yes I am."  
P  
"No you're not."  
P  
"Yes I am."  
P  
"No you're not."  
P  
"YES I am, and if you don't stop I /I going to hit you with a book; I don't care what I said."  
P  
"But you promised. And you don't have a book."  
P  
"I'll kick you then. I'm wearing boots, remember. I am the queen of everything cynical, so hah."  
P  
"You don't really want to kick me, now do you? I thought that--"  
P  
"Oh, I'll kick you alright. Try me."  
P  
"You honestly thing I'm going to fall for that whole 'look over there' rubbish?"  
P  
"No. /I." Draco took her hand and dragged her over so she could see.  
P  
"What?.." Her voice caught in her throat and she wasn't sure if she could say anything else. She didn't check to see.   
P  
"Hello, Harry. I haven't seen you in so long." Denia jumped down from her spot inside the tree. "I've been wanting to talk to you."  
P  
Harry didn't jump this time, he was getting used to the fact that people were always lurking behind corners and well in trees too. He couldn't ever be sure that he was alone, so he never assumed so. "What do you mean? I talked to you a couple of days ago. And well when...I tried to talk to you...you turned into Lavender."  
P  
"Lavender, I'm not Lavender. Have you got the wrong person? You don't remember me, Harry? I don't forget you. Never, ever." The corners of her mouth turned down.  
P  
"Of course I remember you. I didn't say that. But when I wanted to talk to you. You left the room so I followed and I couldn't find you."  
P  
"It's a big school; that's understandable. Honestly, I wouldn't run away from you."  
P  
"Ron thinks I'm crazy, you know. He doesn't know who you are."  
P  
"Ron forgets things."  
P  
"Huh? Forgets what?"  
P  
"Well, if you don't understand I can't explain it. You think too much. Take life as it comes. Why stop to think about it? It makes everything less enjoyable. You only live once," She paused and clucked her tongue, a shy smile on her face, and she mumbled a few words Harry couldn't hear. And her eyes changed. Shifted in a strange way. She almost looked alarmed. Her eyes, he always noticed them. With their invisible lashes, they were forever staring at you. Like the paintings he'd read about in his muggle school. Watching, and still silent.  
P  
"Denia...are you.."  
P  
Her eyes shifted back, as if she had been awoken from a terrible nightmare, and she leaned in so close he could feel her breath. Harry stumbled - in shock. His feet slipped under him, and he was falling slowly, until he hit the ground with a soft thud. She was still there, her gaze was locked and unwavering. Her weight pressed into his chest and her hands gripped tightly to his shoulders. A few beads of sweat trickled down Harry's forehead, his breathing was becoming louder and unsteady. He didn't know it, but he was shaking."What could ever be wrong, Harry?"   
P  
The tall sycamore bent it's branches down around her, enveloping her in the scent of piney leaves and warm wood. She couldn't see very far from beneath the curtain, but it didn't bother her. She wasn't in the mood for seeing things. The sun was beginning to sink over the lake. The golden rays that had beat down onto her neck when she'd walked there were fading away, becoming nothing more than traces of a shimmer. And soon they would be gone. Plunging the world into a darkness, and who knew if one day that darkness wouldn't become permanent?  
P  
When those thoughts had crossed her mind, the ironic part was that she begin to notice. She stirred. So, it /I true. She was right.   
P 


End file.
